#realistically he shouldn't even know what SIX is but oh well

[unkownbee]

Guys, Ham likes SIX. He told me so himself :).

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 53

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*Grian*

You choose to wait at least another week to return to your body and It's really unbearable, It's just so boring. You even tried following Scar around to see what he did but he just moped around and lied in bed all day, you appreciate the worry but come on!

...You also know a week is also way too short of a time to make the whole healing process look realistic but you really want to go back and be done with this already.

So you just have to jump back into the vessel and It's done, easy peasy...except you don't, you are called by someone and you stop in place.

First is annoyance, who is calling for you right now? You don't exactly have worshipper so it isn't a prayer...ugh, that didn't feel like Pearl either, not in the slightliest, felt more like electricity...

Then comes the curiosity, after all this never happened before! It's kinda exciting! So, of course, you follow the call... And then you see him, on a roof, a green streak of hair and a mask on his face, Altostratus. He turns towards you, so he's the one that called?

"Altostratus?"

... Wait, why is he here?? He's just another hero?? How did he do that? How can he even see you? Or know that you are here in the first place? Then comes the realization and you sigh loudly, he's another god because of course he is. Why is this the second time you meet another god? Who even is he? There are no gods called "Altostratus", no important ones at least.

"Nasty wound you got there lad"

Wait, you recognize that voice, you know this guy...

"Jeremy?"

"Well... That ruins the dramatic reveal I had in mind... Also call me Joel from now, Jeremy is already a bit overused anyway You would not believe how many mortal parents name their children Jeremy."

Considering he is the main god of a major religion named after him...you can guess.

...

Right, to more important things... He copied your whole idea! That's so embarassing of him.

"Humans got superpowers like six decades ago and nobody got involved but when I do suddenly everyone else is doing it as well? I see how it is."

"Oh shut up, I've been here for years now, longer then you have Gr- wait, there are more gods here?"

Oh...oh he doesn't know. Hmmm, how to explain it to him?

"There's Santa Perla, yeah."

"Why is she here???"

"I don't know, why are you here?"

"Because I wanted to be."

He does realize that answer is just going to make you curious? No one who has a normal reason would act so cagey about it. ... Wait just a moment.

"How did you know my body got shot?"

"I'm the sky, I see everything."

Uh huh...you see how he wants to play it, does he really think he can outwit you that easily? You can see his tells, he's way to expressive even with his mask on.

"You might, so do I... But I don't pay attention to all of it and for a fact neither do you."

"I could be."

"You could but you don't. So how did you know?"

"Who do you think called the hero association about the vigilantes in las nevadas?"

...oh, he did not just say that, he's the one that caused Scar to die in like five different ways! Even worse he's the reason you had to absolutely nothing for a week!

"YOU!"

"Ok maybe I shouldn't - what are you doing? Hey!"

You launch rocks at him a bunch...and again.

"Wha- hey stop it, stop!"

"I knew we were being sneaky and there was no way someone would have seen it!"

"Well, I am someone-" You trow another rock at him for good measure.

"You don't count."

You huff, you'll get your revenge on him eventually. Can't believe your vessel got shot because of this guy being a snitch.

After a while of akward silence Joel tries to restart the conversation.

"Well... I'm sure you have questions. I am ready to-"

"Not really"

. . . Oh wow, his face, you can see a vein on his forehead, you can't help laughing at it. He doesn't seem amused as he tries and fails to swipe at you.

"OK... Well I do"

"Cool" You don't even look at him as you say that, peak disrespect.

"Don't cool me!"

"K"

The sky darkens, thunder rumbles. Oh yeah, sky god, forgot about that. "Ugh, why do you have to be so annoying?!?"

"It's just who I am, I'm the god of chaos not polite small talk"

"You are the god of chaos not of being a little shit!"

You hum a low note, make a pensive expression and then shrug. "Debatable"

He grits his teeth and screams silently, honestly you expected him to explode at you way earlier, that's an A plus in compousure.

"Soo... are we done? I have a vessel to go back to"

"No!"

Oh you think you have found the perfect revenge, at least for now...Joel is so pissed off already and is trying so hard to hide it ... As if the growing storm could be hidden.

"Why are you..."

He sighs to compose himself again, really earning that A plus.

"Xelqua- Grian you need to tell me... what did you came here to do? What *did* you do?"

"I don't *need* to tell you anything."

He twiches, he's probably not used to arguing with people like you... Or maybe he's just bad at arguing with people in general.

"...I would like you to?"

"Hmmm...Only if you tell me what you have been up to."

His eyes narrow and he crosses his arms. "I thought you said you didn't care about me being here and that didn't have any questions for me."

"I changed my mind. I'm the god of chaos, I'm unpredictable like that"

You giggle at that, that's not even a complete lie most of the time and it still peeved him.

"I...see."

"Sooo..? Do we play twenty questions now or?"

You can see as his fist tighten. "Just-... sure! Whatever! If that is what it takes."

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Regulus is younger than canon, and Sirius is finally promoted to run away from home after he comes home in 1975 and finds his brother covered in bruises and discovers their mother had used the cruciatus on him. He turns up at the Potter’s with no prior warning with a six year-old Regulus in tow.

Established James/Sirius, lots of hurt/comfort and angst, and Regulus is adorable and Sirius will do literally anything for his baby brother.

((A/N: Warning for non-specific child abuse in keeping with the prompt))

"Hey. How are things at the death house?"

Sirius snorts. "This isn't the death house, this is the grim house. Death house is over in Wales, I'm afraid."

"Ah, my mistake. It's easy to get confused when your father died so recently; you understand."

Sirius should maybe not find that funny, considering how recently that death was. But his father was a distant figure at best, and at most realistic, a weird hermit that sometimes showed up during the winter hols to state that Sirius was bigger than before. He laughs, then glances over his shoulder to make sure his mum didn't hear that-- all clear. He looks back to the mirror. "It's fine. Well," he corrects a moment later, "it's weird. Mum's been acting so strange, and I swear, it's as if Regulus doesn't even exist. He's six. I remember being noticeable at six, but I never see him running around or yelling or anything I did at that age."

"Maybe he's just a quiet child. I've heard they exist," James grins.

"We're Black's. Making a scene is in our blood."

"He's got time to learn. And it's only been a day. Maybe he's intimidated by you or something. How's your mum acting weird, anyway? Is it because you didn't go to the funeral?"

"I dunno." That would be a plausible explanation, but he's not sure that's it. She sent a Howler when he didn't show, and that's usually enough to get it out of her system. Sirius chews on his lip as he tries to think of an example. "Just off. Like when you tell a joke and they do laugh but there's a pause that shouldn't be there. It's not something you can put your finger on, but you can sense it."

"I think I know what you mean, but your mother is kind of always like that to me." His head turns, listening to something Sirius can't catch, then he's waving goodbye. "Mum's calling me, got to go. Remember to ask your mum when you can come spend the night. I miss you."

"I'll ask her first thing. Love you."

"Love you too." James presses a smacking kiss to the mirror that makes Sirius laugh, and then he's gone.

Sirius heads to his room and cleans up a bit. Merlin, did his mum tell Kreacher to not clean his room while he was at Hogwarts? He didn't pay it any mind last night because he was tired, but there's a layer of dust that shouldn't be here. Come to think of it, Kreacher didn't make dinner last night, either. Has he seen Kreacher at all since he's been back? There's no way he died; Mother would've been more upset about that than her husband, and he would've heard about it.

What probably happened is that she got pissed when Sirius told her where she could shove her plans for his future and told Kreacher to not do things for him. It would explain the room, and if he's not supposed to do things for Sirius, then avoiding him is the best route. Damn it. That does sound like something she'd do. Sirius sighs and settles in for a deeper clean than he planned, because who knows how long it's been? 

His housekeeping spells are a bit shoddy but he does alright. He unpacks, switches out the photo in the picture frame by his bed. It goes from one photo of him and James to a different photo of him and James. The pictures look so similar, he notes. They took it at the same part of Hogwarts, but it hadn't been on purpose, so there's the same archway, flowers, even the same family of birds. The only thing that looks different about it is the signs of aging, losing just that more baby fat and getting taller. Their smiles are the same, though.

"Oh shit," he says after seeing the time. He almost missed dinner.

Or at least that's what he thought until he gets downstairs and doesn't see anyone. Nothing on the table, no one in the seats. "Mum? Regulus? Mum?" Nothing. "Kreacher?" Still nothing. He frowns. That's odd. "Mum?" he calls again, checking the sitting room. When he finds no one, he throws up his hands. Guess it's just him for dinner. He heads to the basement-- that's where the good stuff is. A nice cut of meat, a bottle of wine...

He opens the door, and there's the nearly imperceptible pop of a silencing charm being broken followed by screams. "What the-" Sirius races down the stairs, eyes widening in horror at what he sees. Between one breath and the next, his wand is in his hand and he stuns his mother. She collapses, the spell lifting off Regulus simultaneously. Regulus is gasping for breath, the effort interrupted too often with sobs and whines of pain. "It's okay, it's okay," Sirius promises, although he doesn't know how it's going to be okay since their mother seems to have lost her fucking mind and there's no one here for him to ask for help.

When Sirius picks him up, Regulus clings to him, small hands fisted in his robes with a strength he shouldn't have. He figures that out when he tries to put Regulus down so he can re-pack what he just unpacked and can't get him free. There's no time to find a better solution, so he shifts to holding him with one arm and has his wand in the other. It's a hack-job of packing, but his room is in his bag, and that's what's important. He goes to Regulus's room-- in a poor state of disrepair, really what happened to Kreacher?-- and does the same there. 

Regulus's tears are silent now, but there's still the occasional gasp of pain as Sirius moves. This is more than the Cruciatus Curse at work. He needs a healer, but Sirius can hardly show up at St. Mungo's like this. He's not an adult, and Regulus is so young that they'd insist on calling Walburga in which would just make matters worse. He needs- James. Yes, that's true, he needs James. James is good at healing spells and knows more of them than Sirius does, and although he never planned on taking the Potter's up on their offer, they'd long since told Sirius that he was welcome there anytime.

He isn't looking forward to going through the floo holding someone, but he doesn't have a lot of options right now. Regulus is too shaken to use the floo on his own, and he won't let go of Sirius to try. 

He grabs a handful of floo powder, steps inside... and then is ejected back into the room at Grimmauld Place. "Bugger," he mutters. Mum must've closed the floo. Why would she do that? It made no bloody sense- but then he can't expect her to make sense at all right now, since hurting Regulus is also senseless. Why would she...? Just why?

The floo isn't an option. He doesn't have money for the Knight Bus ever since Mum stopped giving him an allowance when he was thirteen. He doesn't know how to take a Muggle bus, much less if it could get him from Grimmauld Place to the Potter's house. That leaves flying, he realises with a grimace. There are brooms in the cupboard under the stairs and he grabs one. He's not fond of flying and he's never done it with a passenger before, but he has no other choice.

"We have to fly, and then we'll get you some help, okay?"

Regulus gives no response. Shit.

Sirius doesn't think about much as he flies. Mostly he's worried about Regulus falling off the broom if he suddenly decides to let go of Sirius's robes, and the rest of his thoughts are occupied with wondering if James will be happy to see him or just stressed out. 

He doesn't give any thought to how it'll look to the Potter's when they open the door and see him holding a shaky six year old, asking for help, but then he's stood there, looking at them as they take in the sight he makes, and it occurs to him that calling James on the mirror wouldn't have gone amiss.

*

After a hundred different healing and diagnostic spells-- who knew Mrs. Potter trained to be a healer after Hogwarts?-- Regulus is doing better and is asleep. Of course, he's asleep on Sirius's lap, so even though all he wants is to curl up on top of James, he can't. Mr. and Mrs. Potter are in the other dining room, discussing what to do from here. Sirius thinks his mother must be under the influence of a spell, but he knows they don't believe that. Whether she is or not, she won't be able to take care of Regulus any time soon-- even if she could, there's no way Regulus would want to go back. And Sirius doesn't want to be in the house with her either.

"What are you thinking?" James asks. He keeps his voice down to not wake up Regulus. Sirius does the same when he responds.

"That this is fucked."

"Yeah. Bit of an understatement," James says with a grimace. "That stuff I said on the mirror-"

Sirius shakes his head, cutting him off. "You couldn't know. No one could've guessed my mum would turn barmy overnight." He glances towards the door to the dining room, hoping that something will slip through from the Potter's conversation and he'll know what they're thinking.

"What do you think will happen?" James asks, following the direction of his thoughts.

"I dunno," he replies, but it's a lie. Barely a second later, he adds, "Emancipation for me. Housing Regulus with the closest relative willing to take him in. Cygnus and Druella won't do it, they said they were done being around kids after me." And they meant it. "Bellatrix would, except she doesn't want any kids. Andromeda's next in line, and she'll say yes, unless Ted has some problem with it. So I guess I find somewhere to stay, and he goes off with Andromeda."

"If you're emancipated, couldn't you take him in?"

"Legally that would work, but we've still got Hogwarts."

"Stay here."

Sirius stares at him. He wants to and hopes more than anything that it's offered to him officially, but... "Your parents-"

"Would let you. Mum and Dad adore you. This is probably what they're talking about in there. C'mon, you know they wanted more than one kid. After tonight, they might have two more, and they’ll be bloody thrilled."

*

Several years later

"We're summoned to Hogwarts," Sirius says.

"Again?"

"Yep. What do you think he did this time?"

"Nothing worth us getting dragged up there," James groans. "We got up to all sorts when we were in school, and they only called our parents in once. Regulus isn't half as bad as we were."

"Yeah, well we didn't get caught."

James blinks, thinking that over. "I forgot that bit," he says candidly, making Sirius laugh. "He's in Slytherin, shouldn't he be better at sneaking around?"

"Yeah, I asked him about that, apparently it's a myth. Snape was not the best sample to base the rest on, he says. Or he's playing the long game and lying to me, but I really think they don't care as much as we thought."

"Huh." James looks like his entire worldview has changed. Sirius remembers having the same reaction when Regulus told him. It's made Sirius wonder why Slytherin has the terrible reputation because they largely don't break the rules, but Gryffindors are viewed as better when they broke the rules, often just to see if they can get away with it.

They floo over to Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore is there to greet them. "I hope this didn't interrupt anything important."

"It's fine," James says.

"Do you want to tell us what this is about before we get in there?" Sirius asks, loping his arm through James's as they walk. 'Disgustingly domestic' is what Regulus calls them, and Sirius is happy to keep proving him correct.

People say that Regulus is in his 'rebellious phase'; Sirius doesn't believe it. He's not rebelling and he's not acting out, he's having fun. Experimenting, even. Loosing five dozen roosters in the Great Hall sounds hilarious, and Sirius is sorry they didn't think of it when they were in school. And the hair dye thing? Completely harmless. Giving all the house elves twelve hours off made Sirius lose his composure laughing-- something he tried not to do while in the office being told about it-- but Regulus wanted to see what would happen to the running of the castle without them. Freeing the hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures was an accident, so it hardly counts, even though he got detention for it.

There's a wide range of possibilities, and Sirius doesn't know which kind they're expecting today.

"I'm afraid it's a rather delicate matter. Mr. Black has asked that you not be told anything without him in the room, and given the nature of this... incident, I agreed."

James and Sirius share a worried look, and they're thinking the same thing: we're too young to be raising a teenager. Wasn't it just yesterday they were walking these halls themselves? That feels like the truth, but simultaneously, it was a lifetime ago. Sirius is only ten years older than Regulus, but shortly after graduating Hogwarts, Mr. and Mrs. Potter had died, leaving them alone with the responsibility of raising him. They asked for help from Andromeda where they could, but she had her own child to raise, and their schedules were never so aligned that they could ask for her assistance at the drop of a hat.

Sirius squeezes James's hand and gets a comforting squeeze in response. Right. They can handle this, like they handled everything else. Regulus threw them curveballs sometimes, but they always worked through it in the end.

[your-hotdog-husband]

3:45 am: I'm shopping the Safeway app for gluten free foods after taking my ambien. This is always the worst time for me to be on my phone. I heard recently that gorillas at the zoo get so fixated on people's smart phones that it's become disruptive to the whole... "gorilla experience." Signs have been put up in some cases, asking patrons to please leave their phones in their pockets. They should lend (well, rent, realistically) camera lens attachments that allow you to hide your phone while taking pictures. IDK how this idea really could be executed. This is the worst time of night for me to be on tumblr. What is likely to be even more disruptive for some folks is the metal detector being proposed for San Diego Zoo's Gorilla World exhibit.

My wife is snoring like a... hound with allergies and sleep apnea. So... I'm gonna raid the kitchen. I left a slice of gluten free pizza in the toaster this morning. The crust was too soggy, even though I baked it almost perfectly. I'll either check the instructions or try using a grate or whatever on top of the bacon sheet. I know I said bacon. We rarely rarely eat bacon. We don't keep any in the fridge. We'd end up finishing it before the week is over. But now I'm thinking about a bacon sheet. We'd cook our six slices in the morning for breakfast or brunch, and then use the grease for baking something. How about... quesadillas? Pizza. Grilled cheese sandwiches. Oh, chicken! Right? Add it when grilling some lean hamburger patties. See, this is what happens. Around 2:30 am, an app should lock up my phone until I've had at least 7 hours total of solid, real sleep. Or it's 9am, whichever comes second. I really shouldn't be on my phone at this hour. I really am liable to say anything. Well, I've never turned nazi, and I've done this quite a lot over the last couple years. I wonder how many people fancy themselves having absolutely no nazi qualities, but once you pump them with ambien (zolpidem, generic), they throw around racist epithets, talk about elective enthnic cleansing for parents-to-be. Neuro-conforming, blond haired, blue eyed babies, tall and muscular, smart but not too smart. Well, I'm talking about it. I don't like it. I'm against it. I'm only bringing it up to illustrate how creepy it is. See, if you make your white clone army too smart, they might overcome their nazi indoctrination. Especially the women. I'm not being sexist. I'm a man, and most of my best friends are men. See, I'm mentioning sexism only in context of not engaging in it. See, there are inherent differences in humans due to differences in testosterone levels. It's not so much that testosterone makes us stupider, it just makes us more suggestable when we are amorous and after experiencing sexual pleasure, and for much of the time in between, as long as one isn't amorous for too many hours, in which case we become too irritable and distractable to influence. We're more likely to fumble about and break things in a desperate attempt to do something productive in the garage, kitchen, or office. Or we'll be in the bathroom with the door closed for a while, trying to remember the hair and style of a classmate in 12th grade, along with any of their unusual facial expressions, particularly involving their lips and closed eyes. Oh, don't forget the tongue. She (or he) always let their innocent facade slip. But only to be funny, but then again not that funny. The humorous delivery was just an excuse for an awkward double-entendre, still out of character with her good girl style. I wonder what kinds of guys she hooked up with at City College. I hope they weren't all douchy. Maybe she stuck to good Christian boys at campus fellowship, or from Bible camp. Did they make out in the boating shack? Go to third base or 3½ in the back room of the nature center?

I'm quite peckish after looking at sausages and many other foods on my phone. My wife's done snoring, bad timing as always. I hope the one sad little slice of pizza does the trick. I'm out of lunch meat.

[niksixx]

Close as Strangers

Requested: Nope! 

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Fem!Reader 

Description: Based on the song ‘Close as Strangers’ by 5 Seconds of Summer. Lyrics are bold and italicized. 

A/N: Reblog and leave your own tags!! Thanks for supporting me :) 

*GIF is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six weeks since I’ve been away

And now you’re saying everything has changed

And I’m afraid that I might be losing you

And every night that we spend alone

It kills me thinking of you on your own

And I wish I was back home next to you

Tommy had a job to do whether you liked it or not. Mötley Crüe was at the height of their success, landing tours in countries all across the globe. Being unfamiliar with the music scene, having a rockstar boyfriend was much harder than it looked. You supported him in every way, being there for him as his fame grew, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said it wasn’t difficult at times.

Shortly after Mötley Crüe’s debut in America, your relationship crossed over the line from casual to serious. You and Tommy adored each other, two halves of one whole, but lately you felt your relationship slipping right through your fingers. And the worst part was there was no motivation to save it.

“I’ve only been gone six weeks, honey.”

Six weeks too many. Now on his second tour, Tommy was busier than ever. Phone calls after every show were either late or nonexistent. In the event that he didn’t call, you tried not to take it personally, finding random things around the house to keep you busy, to keep your mind from wandering.

And then the plethora of rumors started and knocked the wind out of you. Tommy would never cheat on you, his heart was too loving, his soul too pure, but the paparazzi pictures did their job of convincing you that maybe Tommy had been unfaithful.

There was no denying that your relationship was dwindling, changing for the worst. In your bed, the side Tommy slept on grew colder and colder each night he was gone. The body pillow that rests in his place was too soft, lacking the firmness of Tommy’s body that you’d grown to love as you fell asleep beside him. The blankets didn’t compare to having his arms wrapped tightly around your frame.

Everything was just...different.

“Am I...am I losing you?”

No.

No.

No.

It was the word you wanted to scream out to him on the other end of the line, but it wasn’t the word that came out.

“I miss you so much, babe. I hate that I’m not there with you. I’d do anything to come back home to you.”

And you’d give anything to have him back, too.

Are we wasting time? Talking on a broken line?

Telling you I haven’t seen your face in ages

I feel like we’re as close as strangers

Won’t give up, even if it hurts so much

Every night I’m losing you in a thousand faces

Now it feels we’re as close as strangers

On the other end of the line, you can hear Tommy’s name being called either by his bandmates, groupies, or partygoers that found their way backstage after the show. He was easily distracted, shouting back and forth or laughing, forgetting that you were patiently, tiptoeing the line of impatiently, waiting for him on the other end.

“Tommy.”

“What? Oh, shit, I’m sorry babe.”

He was always sorry.

Sorry for leaving.

Sorry for forgetting to call.

Sorry about the photos.

Sorry for the excessive drinking.

Sorry for becoming distracted midway through your conversation.

Overtime, the word ‘sorry' lost its value.

And when it did, you became even more distant, intolerant of his inconsistencies.

“Baby?”

“Tommy, I haven’t seen you in three months. The least you can do is give me five fucking minutes on the phone.”

“Woah. Damn. Chill out. I was just talking to Vince.”

“Chill out?” You ask dramatically, now sitting upright in bed. “Chill out? You see Vince every day, Tommy. All I want is a sliver of your time, five minutes, and you’re giving me a hard time about that?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Tommy sighs sadly, scrubbing a hand over his face. Cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder, he hastily digs a cigarette from his pocket. He lights it and puffs out a cloud of smoke. “Are you okay, baby? You’re awfully snippy.”

You had every right to be snippy. Miles away in a foreign country, Tommy was living the life he always wanted for himself, all the while you were at home, going through the motions of an ordinary day seven days a week.

At times you were jealous of his success, as it had been the factor that took him away from you. It was hard being cooped up alone in a house that was meant for two people.

In theory, you’d be fine if the effort was there. But amid Tommy’s hectic lifestyle, you were floating in the background unseen.

The sigh from your lips was one of defeat. “No, Tommy, I’m not okay. I feel like my boyfriend is a stranger to me now. I miss you more and more every night, but lately I feel like giving up.”

Tommy pauses, heart racing. His grip on the cigarette tightens. He didn’t like where this was going. “On what?”

The lump in your throat grows, fingers gripping the phone tighter. You almost choke on the words, wondering if it’s a sign to hold them back. “On us.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Tommy repeats in a rush, hand firmly planted against the cool brick wall behind the payphone. “Don’t say that, baby. Don’t you dare say that. I love you. I love you so much, you know that, right? And I miss you. I miss you all the time. When I’m up on that stage and I look out into the crowd, the only face I don’t see that I really want to see is yours.”

Maybe you should’ve kept the words at bay. But what good would hiding your feelings do? Even thousands of miles away, Tommy could pick up on the cues. The slightest change in your voice could send him into a panic.

“Tommy, being away from you for so long is so exhausting and I just...I don’t want to spend my time sulking and crying and waiting for you to come home. You’re struggling to make time for me when all I want is a five minute phone call, the media keeps reporting that you’re drinking more than usual, and the photos...the photos are tearing my heart in pieces.” You try not to think of the photos or of the groupies that made it their priority to sleep with men like Tommy, but the images were burned into your brain. “I feel like you’ve been on tour forever and I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Tommy’s world comes crashing down around him. Just thinking of you ending the relationship has him sucking in nervous breaths, mind whirling with possible solutions to save your relationship. There was no way he was letting you get away from him. He wouldn’t give you up so easily.

“What if you come on tour with us?” He questions suddenly. “You wouldn’t have to worry about seeing me because we’d always be together. Come on baby, let me show you the world.” He’s sure this idea will work. You’ve mentioned before how the rest of the world seems nonexistent, as you’ve never traveled anywhere outside your immediate country. He’s giving you the chance, and he hopes you’ll take it.

But his high hopes come crashing down as you don’t think twice about rejecting his proposal. “I have my own life to live, Tommy. I can’t drop everything and spend the next four months in twenty different cities. I have to work so I can pay rent and pay for groceries and bills. Be realistic.”

Tommy frowns, crushing the butt of his cigarette under his boot. “You were just complaining about not seeing me. I give you a way to do that and you shut it down.”

The tips of your nails suddenly become important as you cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder. You pick and pick, teeth biting the corner of your bottom lip as you do so.

“Baby, tell me where your head’s at,” His voice is small now, unsure. “Tell me you’ll always be here. Please tell me I’m not losing you.”

“I want to be able to say those things. But you’re halfway across the world right now and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I need you here.”

There’s a heavy sigh on the other end of the line as you find yourself sliding off the bed and trudging to the window, staring out into the dark sky. The crescent moon is the only thing illuminating the outside world along with a few street lights on the pavement. Around you, the world outside is quiet. The thoughts in your head? Not so much.

It was a conversation you never wanted to have, but it was necessary. You and Tommy were two different people who needed different things. Was there a chance you were acting selfish by pleading with him to come home? No doubt.

You knew Tommy would never give up his job despite his immense love for you. And while you wanted him to come home, you couldn’t force that decision out of him.

Which is why you had to make the decision yourself.

On the phone I can tell that you wanna move on

Through the tears I can hear that I shouldn't have gone

Everyday gets harder to stay away from you

“Don’t do this,” Words break through Tommy’s quiet sobs as his body is curled in a ball on the floor beside his hotel bed. After receiving what had been the worst news of his life, his legs had given out from underneath him, his body crumbling to the ground. “Please, baby. Don’t do this to us.”

After sleeping on it for a few days, you realized that the only thing you could do was break things off with Tommy. The road to your decision was a long and rough one, but hopefully it would be worth it if there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

But it was hard. Leaving your love behind wasn’t supposed to be easy. You had your doubts, and numerous what-ifs made you question your decision.

In the end, you knew it was the right choice even if your stubborn boyfriend wouldn’t agree with you. It wasn’t fair to make Tommy give up his dream in the middle of the band’s success. It was okay to be selfish at times, but this wasn’t one of them.

“You don’t know how hard this is for me,” There’s a crack in your voice, and soon a few tears leak from your eyes. Curled in a ball as well, your body sits heavily on the kitchen floor, back pressed against the stove. “I don’t want to do this. I really don’t want to do this, Tommy. But I can’t ask you to give up your dreams and come home. That’s selfish, and I love you too much to make you choose.”

“You’re not even giving me a choice,” Tommy says angrily, tears flowing freely. He runs a hand through his hair, dragging it down over his face, before slapping it lifelessly against his leg. Exhaling a shaky breath, Tommy leans his head back against the side of the bed. “I shouldn’t have gone. Fuck this, I’m coming home.”

“Tommy, no.” The tone of your voice is firm. You won’t let him sabotage his dreams on your account. “Listen to me. I love you. I do. But this isn’t working for us.”

“It’s not working for you,” Tommy corrects sarcastically, wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. “Last I checked I wasn’t the one ending our relationship.”

You should have expected this, but his words stung as he spit them back to you. There’s no way you can blame him. He’s hurt. He’s angry. You deserve the lashing out for blindsiding him.

“You know I never cheated on you, right?” Tommy sniffles. The thought of being unfaithful to you had never even crossed his mind. “The photos, I mean.”

You nod. “I didn’t think you would.”

The long pause between the phone line is eerie. Tommy’s labored breathing is audible on the other end of the phone, and it’s not the type of breathing from the exhaustion after a wild show. It’s panic. It’s fear. It’s the feeling of loss.

“I told myself I’d fight for you, but if this is what you want, then I’ll let you go,” The words surprise you. Part of you had already imagined Tommy packing for the first available flight, but the defeat in his voice told you otherwise. He was staying put. “You deserve to be happy, and if I can’t do that then--.”

“Tommy, you’ve made me so happy. The happiest I’ve ever been,” There was no denying that. You had never laughed more, smiled more, loved more, than when Tommy became an integral piece of your life. “But it’s just--.”

“Right person, wrong time?”

The last piece of your beating heart shatters. The phone almost slips from your clammy palm as the reality of his words hit you. “Yeah. Exactly.”

Your life would be different if you’d met Tommy at the right time. There’d be no hesitation, no confusion, just blissful love.

Tommy clears his throat and it sinks into your bones that there was a large possibility this would be the last conversation you’d have with him. “Before you go, I want you to know something,” Tommy pauses to gather his thoughts. “I want you to know that we’re going to be together again one day. When all this is over, I’m going to find you, and I’m never going to let you go. You’re the one for me, Y/N. I’m letting you go now because I love you, but I’m going to win you back again. That’s a promise.”

One final tear slips down your cheek. “I hope you do.”

[eveningclouds]

do you ever feel like you might be dead by the time you get your degree?? Cos I do. Istg this degree( that I chose) is sucking the life and youth out of me

i[m very sorry that you're experiencing this <333 school can be soooo difficult, not just academically but bc of all of the *vaguely gesturing* external facotrs we're expected to balance as well - even if u chose your area of study voluntarily, the workload + environment + living in a Society + financials etc., put so much strain on students, it's reasonable that you might not have the same feelings towards yr degree as perhaps u once did

definitely this semester, there was this one intro theory course that gave me WAY more stress than it should have, & it made me so anxious n self critical n hopelesssss about my degree for a bit. (my ta was very umm strict to say the least).

what helped me, personally, with this was 1. spending Less time studying for this class, bc the more time i spent studying the more neurotic i got about the material. with distance, i found that the material wasn't so bad! 2. identifying what Actually stressed me out about the course (in the time i didn't study, i journaled a lot about it). it turned out that the theory itself wasn't the problem, but rather, the fact that i really really cared about my ta's opinion of me (-> my grades) bc at the beginning of the semester he told us that only 10% of the students in this class were worth his time (& i really wanted to be that 10%!). altho it's more cathartic for me to go 'wow i hate theory i hope everyone who has ever had a single thought about the state Explodes,' it's more helpful for me to go 'oh actually maybe i shouldn't literally sleep in the library for four days in a row over a six page paper that'll be graded by someone who will never give any paper an a' bc that helps me like, Think about what to actuallly Do next...3. reminding myself that college courses are very much a bubble, and what we learn in these courses only matters in how we apply this knowledge in the real world - like, reminding myself of how this abstract, abstruse material could actually apply to my future ideal life! even if i don't thoroughly understand lacan...

however, overall i have been fortunate to really love and appreciate my degree despite its many flaws. altho idk your circumstances, i would hope that there is some way you don'thave to resign yourself to a future/present that depresses you so much - it's possible!! i can't ofc just say 'drop everything and vibe' bc idt that's the most realistic/livable advice. but. there are still always options to take step-by-step. is there an academic/career counselor u can talk to at school about changing majors (perhaps to something w enough overlapping classes, but different perspectives/applications irl) or minoring in something totally different (for more diversity of thought)? do you know any older students/graduated people that u can talk to, who majored in what ur majoring in, but whose jobs are unrelated to their degrees? is it the volume of workload that's a problem - & if so, are there classes you can pass/fail or research opportunities you can defer to next semester? is it the content's complexity that's the problem - & if so, do u have any friends in the class / any study groups / tutoring services / tas in other sections u can reach out to? ik many people who hate their degrees, but love the jobs/opportunities that their degrees allow them (ex. ik three philosophy majors who haaate philosophy. but they're going into finance, law school, and compsci respectively, despite not taking any econ/law/cs classes) - are there any like, clubs or volunteer opportunities u can try out that might give u greater insight as to what ur future miiight look like?

this is getting sooo long (sorry again), but You + your wellbeing are far more important than like, some gpa or degree. esp when school gets overwhelming, it's easy to ignore or punish yrself by forgoing food/sleep/social activities/etc. altho this sounds sooo #livelaughlove, i highly recommend maybe taking a ten minute walk outside every day without your phone, just to like, build in a little time where you aren't thinking about School and Degrees and The Inevitable and Looming Future Ahead. (<- it sounds silly maybe but prescribing myself Daily Sunlight rly worked for me!) if taking a leave of absence, or not graduating by a previously-agreed-upon deadline is better for your Life, i would suggest considerng this too. thinking about death so much is so distressing & so hard to deal with on a daily basis. i really empathize with you, that a life spent constantly resigned to a state of present hopelessness/anxiety is so taxing!!

if i'm overreacting by writing so much for your message, it really is bc i have, at times in my life, been exactlyyyy where u are and it sucks and yet with time and with considering your options, it does get better. even if this means still majoring in what u don't like, but maybe being ok with a few (subjectively) not-exemplary grades, or making more friends outside your major, or scheduling one day a week where u just #vibe no studying allowed, or reminding yourself that in a few years you'll be in a place where you'll never have to think about [highly specific concept that sucks] ever again. you do have a future, but u also do live in the present - please take care of yourself, or reach out to people who can help u care for yourself!! sorry this is so long!! love u!!!