#still glad i could make at least something in time

[bonelyheartsclub]

for the swap versions of eachother (undertale/underswap and underfell/fellswap) what was it like seeing themselves essentially swapped with their own brother? and do you think the swapped versions of themselves get along for being like minded or are opposed to each other for it (at least when they first met i know they get along now lol)

Stretch: Was definitely…… overwhelmed when he met Papyrus and Boss. Imagining himself running around, doing everything like that every hour of every day made him feel tired just thinking it. More power to those guys. And he gets along with them as easy as his “lazy” counterparts, just conversation naturally oozes out with them.

Blue: Was absolutely astounded to see Sans and Red, how could he ever be that lazy in any universe? Though given he also shares their trait of lacking motivation in some things, he supposes he can relate. Papyrus was a great make-up gift, though, and the two became quick friends! Boss not so much, but that was for other reasons. Mainly dissimilar wavelengths. If anything came from it, though, it was nice to see that no matter the universe, his brother still kept his sweet tooth.

Red: Felt right at home with Blue and Nox. Even with the switching, he just saw it as more people to playfully antagonize with puns and pranks a plenty. He knows himself, he'd enjoy some April fooling, even if they were a bit more uppity. Stretch and Rus were a bit odd; he never thought he'd see his brother be so lackadaisical about anything. It took a bit of adjustment, but he considers them good buddies now. Though he does try to tone things down a little bit for them, moreso than he does for Sans; the part of him that still sees his little brother deems it so.

Boss: The swap siblings were a bit of a surprise to Boss, initially. Though over time, he realized Stretch still had ambition in his own way. Maybe not for the same things HE did, but nonetheless. Blue was a bit more difficult to understand, but gradually he noticed more similarities with Red. Particularly in their need to mess with each other; something he was glad to not be a part of. He was most perplexed by Rus. Knowing he came from such a harsh universe, he was initially surprised someone so clumsy could make it out of there. Though seeing Nox, he supposed it wasn't too much of a surprise: his brother would look out for him in any universe.

Papyrus: For Papyrus, seeing other versions of himself was a little earth-shattering, since before he had assumed it was just he and his brother. At first, he's ecstatic that there's more skeletons!! More friends who understand, especially with Blue!! He does realize later on that not all of his alternates have had the best life, but he wants to make sure they're comfortable from now on.

Sans: Was initially a bit surprised by the swapped siblings (and he for sure had some thoughts about multiverse theory when he met them), but once he got over the moment of shock, he found it easy enough to get along with all of them. Both Stretch and Blue remind him of Papyrus at times, just in different ways. Nox and Rus don't exactly have that same odd familiarity, though he likes them enough to be a general nuisance to them.

Nox: Was defensive and confused at first; seeing different versions of himself and his brother disheartened and enlightened him a bit. Seeing that others had better lives than them had him disappointed, but knowing Boss and Red having similar experiences of the underground had him feeling a sort of comradery- especially with Boss, even if they don't see eye to eye all the time.

Rus: Was a bit overwhelmed in general by the different versions, but he finds them all to be good company now. Papyrus was the oddest version of himself to see, but he admires Paps' energy. Boss reminded him a little of his brother and Rus admires him for his drive and ability to get things done. Stretch is the easiest to get along with for him, and Blue is a bit perplexing to him at times. Sans and Red are odd and definitely different from Nox, but he likes them both well enough (as long as Red keeps any big pranks to himself.)

Via @/Buttergriffin332 (Stretch), @/DuskySkye (Blue, Red, Boss), @/Creative-poptart (Papyrus), @/Lost-immortality (Sans), @/ChrysanStarset (Nox), & @/Goatdadjaxx (Rus).

[comflexxed]

june watched hans carefully as he moved about the kitchen, clearing the table with an efficiency that felt heavy. the thank you for dinner sat just on the tip of june’s tongue, but he hesitated, feeling the growing distance in hans’ demeanor. it felt wrong to end the night like this, but what could he say that wouldn’t make it worse?

when hans turned to speak, his measured tone made june’s chest tighten. there was something final in it, something that left little room for argument, and june hated it. he hated the way it felt like hans was drawing a line between them, even if it was only out of politeness. his gaze flicked to sunny, who was still carefully chewing her fruit, oblivious to the tension between the adults. he lingered there for a moment, letting her presence ground him before speaking up.

“i can wait, but… i can also help with the dishes,” he offered, his voice calm and even, but with a deliberate kind of softness. “it’s the least i can do after dinner.”

he turned back to hans then, his expression steady but kind. “it’s been a good meal, and i’m glad i got to stay and enjoy it here. really.” he glanced back at sunny as he spoke, letting his words settle naturally into the space between them. he didn’t want to push too much, not when hans already seemed so intent on retreating into himself. but he also didn’t want to let the night end on this note, with all the walls still up between them.

june reached for his glass of water, sipping it slowly, buying himself a moment. “take your time, hans. there’s no need to rush,” he said quietly after a beat, setting the glass down and meeting hans’ gaze, steady and unwavering.

hans took a slice of peach for himself, but something about it tasted wrong, even though he had always prepared it the same way. it was not the comforting dessert he had grown to love preparing for himself and sunny. as he looked at sunny taking big bites, he realized it was not the peach that had a problem—it was him. it was this heavy feeling that had clung to his heart, wrapping it in a dark cloud of emotions. 

when june spoke again, the smile that hans gave in reply still had that tinge of sadness to it, though he tried his best to hide it. “thank you,” he replied politely. “i sure hope she doesn’t hate the food i make, because she’s stuck with me for a long long time.” he ended it with ruffling sunny’s hair slightly, which always earned a giggle from her as if reminding hans that they had always been a duo and she had never protested about it. that tore away at the cloud in his heart ever so slightly. as long as sunny was happy, nothing else really mattered. hans did not need selfish happiness when he had his daughter to care for. following sunny’s movements as she turned her peach smiley face into a boat, hans added, “i just want to give her everything she wants. she should always be happy.” 

the word was tinged with bitterness when hans said it. the last few days, he had hoped that there was a possibility for both him and sunny to be happy, and reminding himself that things don’t always work out that way made the hole in his heart grow even larger. that something missing that he thought he had found, only grew more pronounced. but it shouldn’t matter. from sunny’s perspective nothing had changed. she would continue to have june as her teacher at school. that could be enough for hans. 

after a few moments of silence where both hans and june were following sunny’s movements, hans spoke, “alright sunny, you should finish your fruits now. we don’t play with food, remember?” as she replied with a nod and put a piece in her mouth, he started clearing away the bowls, reaching for sunny’s and junes—carefully—and stacking them all together to put in the kitchen sink. dinner couldn’t drag on forever. hans felt like if it lasted a minute more, the invisible thing clenching his heart would fully make it stop beating. with his back turned to june, he spoke in a measured tone, “thank you again for joining us for dinner. if you could wait a few minutes, i’ll put sunny to bed and drive you home like i promised.” 

it was another thing hans dreaded, being alone in the car with june, but he had promised, and it would be rude to take it back now that june had stayed this late. he gave himself a mental pep talk as he transferred the rest of the peaches into a container for june to bring home, reminding himself to breathe. it would all be fine. 

[cryptic--writing]

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.

[not-a-lady-irl]

Glad you liked it

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader Summary: You were taking a cooking class with Trey to pass the time. At the end of class, you returned to your Diasomnia dorm with a beautiful strawberry pie, but you just didn't expect that the pie would spark the interest of a certain dragon. Warnings: fluff, terrible writing Author's Note: English is not my main language so I apologize for any mistakes. Words: 2174

You were taking a cooking class with Trey, he was teaching you how to make one of his famous strawberry pies.

It was just a normal day, after your classes ended you left the Diasomnia dorm looking for something to do and as you walked around campus you smelled the wonderful smell of Trey's pies.

And that's how you ended up in the kitchen of Heartslabyul's dorm.

— Hey Hey! Even your pie turned out better than we expected — Trey confessed, as he took your pie that had just come out of the oven and examined it.

Even you were surprised

— Wow! I still can't believe it worked.

— Your pie is excellent — Trey takes the pie out of the pan and puts it on the table — At least now I know who to call if I get a large order of pies and need help. — He jokes

A smile forms on your face when you hear the compliments

— Thanks Trey, at least now I have something to take to my friends at Diasomnia, I'm sure they'll love eating one of your pies!

— I sincerely hope so — He replies while picking up some already cut strawberries and some whipped cream that was inside a pot — Now this beautiful pie just needs a decoration!

You observe the way Trey decorates his pie, the dexterity and care he has when forming small circles of whipped cream that add a sensation of delicacy to the pie and then the chopped strawberries.

— And… that’s it! — The last strawberry is placed on top of the whipped cream. Trey picks up his pie and looks at it with some pride — It's this decoration that makes customers ask for more and more, I don't know, it seems like they simply only like it if it looks like that, it's strange, isn't it? — He comments with a laugh.

You look at his pie and think about how long Trey must have worked with sweets, especially strawberry pie, to reach this level of perfection.

You wondered if your decor would be as good as his.

— Okay! Your time! — He says, handing you your pie and the utensils for decoration — It's very easy, you'll see — An encouraging smile appears on his lips

— Don’t expect too much from me… — Your confidence exuding

Not wanting to take too long, you take the pot, the spatula and pour some Whipped Cream onto your pie. Luckily, the whipped cream circle comes out perfect.

— I did it! — A smile escapes your face — I didn't ruin the pie!

— If you keep talking like that, it might happen — Trey catches your attention and you respond by pouting — Come on, finish with the whipped cream first and then add the strawberries, which is the easiest part

Obeying his orders, you repeat the same way as before when pouring another drop of whipped cream on the pie.

However, you weren't very lucky this time.

Instead of the drop forming a beautiful, delicate circle, the whipped cream ended up escaping the spatula and a large amount of it spread across the cake, forming anything but a small circle.

— Ah… — Your voice condemning your disappointment at seeing what had happened

But all you could hear was Trey's laugh in the background

— I told you that if you kept saying those things this could happen — A laugh escapes Trey's throat

Your face becomes enraged at the mockery of the green-haired man in front of you. You decide to give up on forming small delicate circles and opt to simply spread the whipped cream all over the top of the pie, "it looks much better like that!", you think, trying to admit that your decoration had been superior to Trey's

— Okay, I'm done! Excuse me. — You respond with disdain — Without even waiting for any response from him

— Oh, that was fun, for sure — You hear him say as you walk away to your dorm

From now on you would think twice, maybe three, four or five before agreeing to do anything with this man again, especially if it was strawberry pies.

With night already taking over the entire sky with the moon and stars, while returning to Diasomnia you found yourself thinking about what the students in your dorm would think about your pie. Would they like it? You weren't so sure about the taste, but since it was Trey's recipe you assumed it wouldn't be bad!

"Well, at least it would be better than Lilia's food for sure", you thought, and a smile escaped.

But even though the opinions of other students didn't bother you much, you, after all, only cared about one person out of all of them.

Malleus.

The horned fae who exudes power and strikes fear into all who look upon him. It wasn't like your crush on him was something few people knew about. You blamed yourself for it, but sometimes you couldn't control yourself around him and your feelings were always showing. Your eyes condemning you.

When you arrived at the dormitory, you could already see the vision of some students studying, others gossiping in one of the corners of the main hall, others practicing magic on themselves or their classmates… well, it was something you were already used to seeing in your dormitory.

You didn't notice, but the still hot pie gave off its scent to everyone, attracting a lot of curious looks at you and the box you had in your hands.

— Yes, it's one of Trey's pies if that's what you're thinking — You respond, already knowing that you couldn't hide this fact for long

— Can we have a piece?? — One of the boys asked

You thought a little before answering, because you wanted Malleus to taste your pie, Lilia wouldn't be a bad idea either, you loved receiving praise from Diasomnia's vice-prefect.

Well, but the fear of the pie being terrible haunted you again. The decor was horrible, there was no denying that, but you were going to take a chance on the taste.

— Okay, you can have a piece. Just ONE ok? — You open the packaging where the pie was and face that decoration disaster again — In fact…. It was… I who… did… — You already regret it

The student who placed the order approached and looked at the pie.

— Well, it's definitely more appetizing than Lilia's food, that's for sure. — He said and took a piece of your pie.

You couldn't hold back your laughter upon hearing the comment. In fact, the vice-prefect's meals were terrible… to say the least, so of course the students would think your pie was phenomenal.

— Wow, it's incredible! — He replied — Congratulations Y/N! You are an excellent cook!

You were surprised by your colleague's comment

— Serious? Thanks! — Your face showing disruption.

Your happiness was so much that you didn't even watch a large crowd of students eating your pie either.

— Hey… wait. Leave at least a piece, please! — Your voice tried to reach the students' ears, but the effort was in vain, none of them heard you.

As you tried to fend off some of them to try and save your piece of the pie, your voice began to take on a different tone, one of fear, concern.

— Guys, please! Don't eat all the pie! — Your voice breaking and the fear of taking over — I told you to leave at least a piece!

When they finished eating, they started to walk away and only then did you get a glimpse of your pie… or at least what was left of it.

Nothing.

There wasn't a single piece left. No trace that it even existed. They left nothing for you to offer Malleus.

As you looked at the empty box in front of you, your eyes filled with tears. You had worked so hard to make that pie. You came back so thoughtful about the feeling of having Malleus experience something made by you… you liked seeing and knowing what he thought about you and the things you did.

You wanted to spend this time with him, to hear from him what he thought of your strawberry pie.

But that was all over, there was no more to give to Malleus.

Angry, you huddled in Diasomnia's kitchen cabinet and cried. You cried everything your heart asked for. All your sadness and regret poured out. You weren't exactly angry with your colleagues, you didn't blame them for not listening to you (at least not entirely), but you blamed yourself even more for not having set aside a piece for Malleus yourself.

— Whatever… — Your voice was muffled

As you gave in to your loneliness and sadness, you heard a familiar voice coming from the front door of the main hall.

— Well… do any of you know where she is? I had promised her that I would deliver a piece of my pie but… she left before I could deliver it.

Wait.

You knew that voice.

Trey??

You wipe the tears from your eyes and run towards the door, where three boys could be seen staring at the green-haired man.

As soon as he looks at you, he shows you the piece of pie that was in his hand

— Hey Y/N! You left before I could give you this. You made me promise that I would give you at least one piece of my pie to try and compare with yours, remember?

It´s truth! You had forgotten, you bothered Trey so much to give you a piece of his pie that after he made fun of your decoration you simply left and forgot about the promise.

You walk over and pick up the piece.

— Thanks Trey… but now there's no way I can compare — You say, your voice already breaking again

Trey looks at you closely and decides to ask.

— Isn't there any left for him?

You just nod your head

Trey knew why you wanted to take a whole pie back to your dorm. He knew you wanted to impress Malleus. That's why he helped you.

Before you could say anything else you both hear heavy footsteps coming from behind you.

— What's going on here? — A deep voice asks, causing chills throughout all the students.

Except for you, because you recognized that voice as well as you recognized Trey's voice.

Malleus.

—Oh? Y/N? What happened? Why are you standing here by the door? —Malleus asks you, his gaze full of curiosity.

— She would like you to try the pie she made — Trey responds in your place.

You look at him with a glare. Everyone in the dorm already knew about your love for Malleus, but Trey didn't need to make it obvious to Malleus himself either.

— Is it true Y/N? — He asks

You didn't know exactly how to feel, you weren't the one who actually made that piece. The decor was beautiful, completely different from yours. However, the recipe was the same, it was Trey's recipe, and the students who ate it said it was just as good. So there probably wasn't much of a difference.

— Only if you want… — You replied quietly, very shy.

You were someone else when Malleus was in the same room as you.

Malleus looks at the piece of strawberry pie held out to him.

— I would love to — And like that, he takes the piece from your hands and puts it in his mouth

The world stops at that moment, the pie wasn't even yours, but the fact that you said it was caused the same anxiety as if it were yours. Malleus bites a piece, chews, swallows, bites another, chews, swallows.

You swore your heart would stop there, at that moment. You even got scared when you saw Trey as worried as you were.

— It's wonderful — He smiles satisfied — I'm happy to know that you have a gift for confectionery Y/N — He praises and bites another piece

You can't even believe it. Your face turns all red. You feel warm. Your heart is pounding. It worked, you received a compliment from Malleus! You couldn't even believe it.

— Looks like someone won the night now — Trey comments with a smile and you can't even be nervous with him, he literally saved you

—Oh? I didn't know that Y/N wanted me to try her pie so much — Malleus lets out a laugh — If you want me to try something so much, next time take it directly to me and I'll tell you exactly what I think. — He smiles at you, his pointy teeth showing.

You don't remember exactly how, but you remember your eyes closing and your head hitting the floor of the Diasomnia.

[allthemeniveloved]

Little Rat

Summary: Arthur Morgan saves you from an uncomfortable encounter with Micah.

-

The fire crackled low in the center of camp, casting flickering shadows against the trees surrounding Clemens Point. Most of the gang had turned in for the night, save for a few stragglers nursing drinks by the embers. You were tidying up your things near your tent, the quiet hum of the crickets offering a small sense of peace—until you heard the unmistakable drawl.

“Well, look who’s all alone in the dark,” Micah Bell said, stepping into your line of sight with that irritating smirk plastered across his face. His eyes glinted in the dim light, and you instantly felt your guard go up.

“Micah,” you said tersely, keeping your tone neutral. “What do you want?”

He feigned offense, holding a hand to his chest. “Now, that’s no way to greet someone, is it? Just tryin’ to be sociable, sweetheart. Seems like you could use the company.”

You shot him a cold glare. “I don’t need anything, least of all from you.”

Micah chuckled low, ignoring your clear discomfort as he took another step closer, his presence pressing in on you. “Now, now. Don’t be like that. I think you and me, we could get along real well if you’d just stop actin’ so high and mighty. Ain’t nobody else around, anyway. What’s the harm?”

You stepped back instinctively, your pulse quickening. “Back off, Micah,” you warned, trying to keep your voice steady.

He didn’t listen. Instead, he reached out, his hand gripping your arm as he leaned in closer. “Aw, c’mon, darlin’. Don’t be like that. I don’t bite.”

Before you could push him away, a deep voice growled from the shadows. “Touch her again, Micah, and you won’t have a hand left to use.”

Both of you turned toward the source of the voice, and there he was—Arthur Morgan, standing at the edge of the firelight. His hat was pulled low, his jaw set tight, and his hand rested casually on the butt of his pistol.

Micah straightened, sneering. “Well, if it ain’t Arthur Morgan,” he spat. “You always gotta stick your nose where it don’t belong cowpoke?”

Arthur didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze locked on Micah with a look that could freeze the blood in your veins. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but it carried an unmistakable weight. “Ain’t no need to explain yourself, Micah. Just walk away.”

Micah raised his hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at his lips, “I was only paying her a compliment, that’s all.”

“You keep your compliments - and yourself - far away from her, or you’ll be eating the dirt under my boots. Got it?”

Micah hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Arthur. He opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur’s hand moved slightly on his pistol, and that was enough to send Micah scowling back toward his tent with a muttered curse.

Once Micah disappeared into the darkness, Arthur turned to you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

You nodded, though your heart was still pounding. “I am now. Thank you.”

Arthur grunted, his hand falling away from his holster as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to get involved, but… couldn’t just stand there watchin’ him bother you like that.”

You offered a small, grateful smile. “I’m glad you did. He’s… persistent.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened again, and he glanced toward where Micah had gone. “He tries it again, you let me know,” he said, his tone sharp with barely restrained anger. “I’ll make sure he don’t forget his place.”

There was something in his gaze when he looked at you—something fierce and protective, but also hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he should let you see it. You didn’t know what to say, caught off guard by how much safer you felt just standing near him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you said again, softer this time. “I mean it.”

He looked away, his cheeks tinged red beneath his scruffy beard. “Don’t gotta thank me,” he muttered, almost embarrassed. “Just… don’t like seein’ you get hurt, is all.”

As he started to walk away, you caught yourself staring after him, wondering why your heart felt a little lighter, even after what had just happened. Arthur, on the other hand, kept his back to you, his fists clenched as he cursed himself for not saying more—for not telling you the truth about why he couldn’t stand the thought of Micah or anyone else getting too close to you.

-

a/n: I’m feeling so unbelievably productive & creative this week and the thoughts are just flowing but I just know I’m going to crash this weekend or next week and not write again for another 7 years

[ofdarknesseyes]

There was definitely no denying it. This kid was his son, it was still almost unsettling. After all these years, Toji would have thought that his son would seem like a stranger to him. Yet here they were and despite everything, Toji still saw the little baby who brightened his life even if it was momentarily all those years ago. His baby, he tries not to think but it fills his mind anyways. He reminds himself that to Megumi he is nothing but a stranger—the cold and cruel man who abandoned him and who almost killed him. He is actually glad that Megumi is distrustful and wary of him. Rather he be that than too trusting. Though he could tell Megumi was warming up to him at least a little, and then again so was he. After all, he was the one who wanted to leave again. The longer he stuck around the more he realized he may not be able to leave again.

At least Megumi still had some fight in him though. He could see the anger still simmering in those pretty eyes of his. Yeah, they were the same color as his but Megumi’s eyes were still far more pretty. Filled with so much emotion, he wonders if Megumi knows the power he has over people with those pretty eyes. Probably not… This amuses him, even though he knows his son’s anger should not amuse him. He deserves that anger, though and he will gladly let Megumi take it out on him. Might as well if he’s going to stick around. Toji can’t deny he’s curious as to why Megumi wants him to stick around. Was it really because he just wanted his dad in his life? Even if he knows his father is a good-for-nothing asshole? Or does he really think that there’s more to Toji? Sorry kid there isn’t… Fucking hell… Toji almost chokes when he notices the blush on Megumi’s face. What the hell was there to be blushing about? Why does he look so damn cute… He has to bite back the grin and the urge to pinch his cheek hard. How is it that his teenage son is still the damn cutest brat to exist? Maybe all parents feel this way but Toji is pretty sure his kid is the cutest. He doesn’t let go right away. Instead, his face is leaning in slightly a playful smirk playing about his lips as his eyes study Megumi. Finally, he releases him but not before his eyes widen slightly at what Megumi says.

“I mean I guess there’s no denying you’re my kid. But I’m not as emo nor nearly as pretty.”

He grins and pats the top of Megumi’s head before finally walking away. Grunting in response to him saying he should shower. He picks up the leftover pizza to put it away in the kitchen area of the suite. Going to rummage in the fridge for the drinks he bought. God, he needed a cigarette… He hasn’t smoked at all since being back alive he realized just now… Why didn’t he buy any at the store? Or at least some alcohol. This revelation shook him to the core. He had been so focused on Megumi that he had not once thought about what he wanted… Other than he kept avoiding the fact that he wanted to stay by Megumi’s side.

Damn it, he really was a mess. Maybe that’s what happens when you get a second shot at life if that's what this was. Do you get soft and try making up for the mistakes you made in life? Toji never thought he would be one to care to make up for anything but the more time he spent with Megumi, the more he realized that part of him did yearn for something he was not familiar with or perhaps just something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

While Megumi goes to shower Toji takes the opportunity to lay in the bed and rest. He meant to just take a moment but he ends up falling asleep to the sound of the running water.

Father and son were easily distinguished in appearance and soon showed in the form of emotion and actions. Pensive, closed off, battling their emotions, and deep down wanting desperately to close the awkward gap between them. If the world didn't know better they might have thought Megumi was raised by Toji to learn all his mannerisms. What they had was in the blood. Even in another ten years and half a world apart, the son would be like his father. For a moment Megumi got a brief inkling of that.

For the first time since reuniting, he saw more than the similarities in their green eyes and black hair but his father, this absent man, took the wind out of those sails when he said GUMI. The nerve! As if his father had been an ACTUAL father. It twisted his stomach in knots but those knots felt loosened when the conversation returned to the serious, bigger picture which lied in front of them. For all either of them knew, this reunion would be just a reunion as either or both of them could die in the fight to come.

Very solemn train of thought was upended and a rush of heat hit Megumi straight in the face. He didn't know why. Was it the heat from the anger that was resurfacing? No, it felt different -- his father was being so brave and commanding. Megumi struggled to swallow when he was face-to-face with his father again and just as he thought about turning away ever so subtly, Toji's fingers were grabbing him. It startled him for half a second. He didn't really think his father would hit him again but he certainly wasn't expecting goofiness or fondness. Now he really felt hot all over.

“ Stop. ”

With his cheeks squished, he sounded muzzled; a wolfdog hybrid being domesticated with love he wasn't sure whether he hated or loved yet. It was similar to all the shenanigans Satoru had pulled with his overly affectionate hugs, hair ruffles, and cheek pinching, but it was different coming from Toji. His true father. Hands quickly went up to smack Toji's hands but it wasn't actually meant to harm his father... if such a thing was possible.

“ I always look like this. I look like--- you. ”

Only like a foolish teenager. Only one percent as good looking and masculine as Toji. Green eyes met green eyes and Megumi decided to maintain the steady eye contact. Part of him was curious to see if he kept pushing this relationship would it drive Toji away despite his claims of sticking around. One thing was saying, another thing was facing your son and realizing there was no turning back. His heart was racing faster and faster.

“ I should shower. I probably smell... bad. ”

[clocky-soul]

Okay so first of all, Arcane Season 2 Act 3 Spoilers!

As much as I loved the second season I feel like it did have quite a few problems?

I pray you can make sense of this insanity, me not being a native English speaker may shine through my bad.

Here’s some things I didn’t like (it’s mainly the last episode):

- no deep talk between Ekko and Jinx?

Okay so maybe they thought that the first episode (which I really liked, might be timebomb bias but also just glad for Ekko to have his episode and we got to see what was going on with Jayce) would be "compensation" for the lack of their interactions in this episode? It didn’t, it felt like there was a scene missing, which is a feeling I get throughout the entire second season. There was a LOT of shit unsaid at least to us, now Arcane doesn’t always need dialogue but leaving the whole thing out just seems like they were rushing.

-no scene with the firelights and Ekko

While I feel like this could have easily been a montage but still, no cool lil thingy of jinx and her team coloring shit, what do all the markings mean? (Some we can guess obviously but still they are just there)

-no Sevika and Jixn scene?

Like really? Oh look they hung out the second act, they won’t notice them not interacting now? No mention of Isha at all throughout? I suppose mentioning her specifically isn’t needed but like nothing? Really?

-No Vi and Ekko scene?

They interacted like once in the entire fight and post fight forgot the other existed ig, I mean obviously she told him that Jinx "died" (I’m certain she’s alive btw, will get into that) but we didn’t even get to see that?

-characters got no conclusion (some)

Okay so maybe it’s intentional, but I feel like the only characters who got a "conclusion" are Vi and Cait (when’s the marriage btw), they have obviously stated that there will be more series similar and also in Runeterra but like, it feels like Ekko, Jinx (who’s definitely alive and am not just coping), Jayce and Vik and also Heimerdinger (what happened to the Lorax? What of the tree) are waiting for another season or something.

Now maybe they’ll use them as tools to connect to different stories (which like feels like it could work well for Jayce and Vik (if those 2 are even alive god knows what happened to em)) but I feel like it won’t work for Jinx? I mean I could see it working but like bestie just jumped on an Airship and poof ig (if that is what happened pretty sure) she just hasn’t been on her own like ever and I feel like if she was she’d just crash? Idk how to describe it, like she didn’t "heal" after Isha so idk where she’s off to, I understand the whole "breaking the cycle" thingy but, it feels just very sudden and not planned out? Like, we don’t have time to make people talk so they just have to disappear (nevermind Ekko being miserable atm, idk how close they would have gotten again in the unseen talk they had)

I just feel like there are scenes missing between Jinx and like half the cast (especially Vi, Ekko and Sevika), allegedly one of the main characters and barely talked in the final act (excluding the alternate universe thing). I don’t know maybe I’m weird but it feels like nothing happened, like I’d see Season 3 pop up suddenly.

I overall feel like Zaun and Piltover still have a lot to offer story wise (some characters from the game (that are in Zaun) don’t even appear in Arcane), now maybe they don’t wanna go over every champion (don’t feel like they need to but you never know, there were like 30 in here).

-Warwick is dead ig?

I mean fair but like really? I feel like that whole sequence at the end was not necessary? I don’t know I’m still figuring out how to feel about that specifically.

As much as I had fun and loved a lot of this season, you can tell it was supposed to have more seasons, while some things concluded well some just didn’t and new problems showed up.

-Now, I love, love, love Isha, and she fits in super well, but at what cost.

I understand very well why Isha was here and I loved her for it, however I feel like her role could’ve easily been given to a different character (mainly Ekko, and this is not me wanting Timebomb) introducing new characters in an already shortened story is kinda eh, especially if screen time for other characters suffers (Ekko, Jayce, Heimerdinger) and the small scene between Ekko and jinx kinda proved that to me? Instead of having her suffer over Ishas death it could’ve been Silcos, act 3 could’ve been Act 2 (minus the final battle obviously), I don’t exactly have a script ready but maybe some of you understand what I mean? Or get my way of thinking at least. And the everyone close to me dies thing could be like cancelled out by Ekkos Z drive (in my head anyway, just makes sense to me).

-if they intentionally left some characters "open" (read as: don’t feel fully developed or took steps back from their development)

I hope, HOPE, they make them interact with each other gain in a different series, because i feel like they aren’t done with each other, it just doesn’t feel like it. Like Vi and jinx and obviously Jinx and Ekko, not to mention fucking Vi and Ekko. (Still salty they didn’t talk afterwards but gg ig)

Characters develop thanks to the characters around them and I feel like making Jinx just suddenly bond with other characters outside of the characters we have met seems Meh? Like bro there a construction site back home go there. Maybe she goes on a journey of self discovery (which I’d be fine with as long as she goes back to Zaun in the end, idk bout everyone else but to me Jinx is the embodiment of Zaun and leaving it would destroy her character (like as in that’s bad). I feel like I should expand on this but I’m so tired rn.

I just feel like it should have ended differently? Like I feel like Vi would definitely stay up Topside with Cait, and Jinx and Cait could’ve easily just had a truce? Like I’m not expecting Jinx to become Silco and lead Zaun (Ekko or Sevika are clearly much more qualified, jinx is more of a mascot.) but I feel like she could easily become an ally to The Firelights, and as Viktor stated, she could use her capabilities to build. A healing jinx easily could, she did repair and modify Sevikas arm so that’s something she could do (she clearly had fun and as she said "its something I could fix"). I feel like you could still expand here either way.

-Also Mel didn’t even get to speak one last time rip. Ambessa is also dead ig.

If they carry on with Noxus I feel like this works fine, Mel is after all now the new Queen or whatever Noxus has. Warlord? Idk with this I’m actually fine? Like I find this acceptable just wish she’d had more time (they could’ve made the last episode 2 hours long and I feel like we would’ve had something better).

-Overall, even if it was only the last act, they had a lot of meat on a bone that’s too short.

They had a lot of things they wanted to do (needed to do) but didn’t give themselves the time, one extra season would’ve given characters more development and would have made a lot of this stuff better in my opinion. I know a lot of hardcore fans are looking at the season through rose colored glasses and I did too, but because I love arcane as much as I do, I can actually admit when stuff wasn’t good, I don’t need to convince myself everything was done well when it wasn’t.

Now it wasn’t anywhere near bad or even mediocre it just wasn’t what it could have been.

The way they could maybe fix some things is with an extra collection of small episodes? Imagine this (maybe I’m delulu, did not sleep)

A collction of 3 short videos that cover some stuff I wish I saw: 1 (Caitlyn deciding she didn’t wanna be besties with Ambessa), 2 (Ekko and Jinx preparing for the battle, (I feel like maybe they had no idea how to make jinx act in this but I digress)), 3 (more conclusive aftermath of the battle we have been building up to for 2 seasons)

Overall it is not what it could have been if you ask me, now maybe they aren’t done with the characters (not the world, these specific babies), which I am hoping, as I said earlier I feel like there’s some people that still need character development. And also I don’t wanna say goodbye but that’s a different ache in my chest, also the way Caitlyn was talking it sounds like we should be expecting a second series with these characters (with some new ones why not), I just feel like THESE CHARACTERS ARE NOT DONE YET. And I’m not talking abt a cameo in the background, I’m talking abt a role as at the very least a side character.

These characters are the ones that introduced us to this world (unless you play the game obviously, I do not). And I feel like that gives them the right to have better written conclusions.

Feel like I’m repeating myself at this point. Probably forgot something too but whatever maybe if I remember I’ll add it.

I also just get so sad at the thought of Jinx being alone after everything she’s been through like Ekko will absolutely take you in rn sweetheart, we miss you come home (please tell me I’m not wrong abt ur ass being alive pleaseee)

If anyone read through all of this disorganized mess, I hope it made at least a bit of sense.

[northernfireart]

a 13river sketch for a friends bday:))

[ineed-to-sleep]

*me immediately after going through a terrifying and traumatic experience* haha yeah I guess it was rough but I'm fine now like I'm totally chill. It was kinda funny actually if you think about it

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

[jabeur]

okay like the thing is that suicide jokes and such are probably not that bad or that big of a deal if you're not really suicidal but if you're For Real suicidal or have been before and are not doing well mentally and you keep making them and start finding comfort in the thought you could kill yourself if you wanted to. be careful

[skyburger]

"fnaf is the scariest game ever" "no its silent hill" "well i think its resident evil" everyone shut up!!!!!! youre all wrong. its actually zack & wiki quest for barbaros' treasure (on the nintendo wii) but only the level "keeper of the ice". that level scared me so bad as a kid and you can tell because its the only individual level i remember the name of off the top of my head. like there is nothing scarier than a) being chased and b) being on a time limit. and you know what this level has? BOTH OF THOSE. this level is still scary to me im like AHHHHH!!!! and then i die

[faunandfloraas]

inadvertently stopped using my freckle fade cream without thinking.... right around the time i started making gifs of felix.... coincidence?

[sysig]

Very important to implement a goof-off break (Patreon)

[deviousdiesel]

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[ereh-emanresu-tresni]

People get wayyy too comfortable shitting on entire regions istg