#im so happy. i spent four or five days in a row just trying to beat the game with the watcher

[lettucedloophole]

TFW WHEN YOU SLAY THAT MOTHERFUCKING SPIRE

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

in honor of their route can i request arin and FMC hanging out with the rest of the group and the two trying to sneak away and go do something by themselves

Written by; @somekidnamedkai

Author's notes: aksfjsj i made this a little longer than i meant to with the group part im sorry. i hope you all like it!

It was a bland Friday evening. Nobody had any classes tomorrow, there wasn’t anything special going on the following day, or tonight for that matter.

So, everyone decided to hang out, play some games, drink some drinks, and just spend the night how Fridays are supposed to be spent: Living the best life.

FMC found some old board games in a closet and brought some down, with the help of her best friend, and partner, Arin Langdon. The two were an inseparable pair, where one was the other was there as well.

After FMC and Arin got downstairs, they saw everyone in a circle debating on what to do first.

“Do you guys have cards against humanity?” Omar asked the two siblings as they glanced at each other, neither knowing.

“I didn’t see it in the closet,” FMC replied to him as she plopped down the games she did have down.

“We’ll take your word for it, after all, FMC knows what being in the closet is like,” MMC jokes, teasing his younger sister.

She gave him a playful, death glare. “We have Giant Jenga,” she spoke with a grin. She liked Jenga, it was fun, plus, she normally won.

“Oh we aren’t playing Jenga, I already know you’re going to cheat and win,” Arin said with a smile and kissed their girlfriend's cheek.

“What is this Jenga game you guys are talking about?” Lucas asked them, as FMC, MMC, Arin, and Omar all pointed towards the largest box in front of them.

“You stack these blocks and take one out and put it on top, FMC is a cheater though and always wins,” MMC said answering Lucas’ question, to which he got a kiss in thanks.

“I don’t cheat. You guys are just jealous you aren’t good at the game,” FMC huffed a response as she grabbed the box, “Jenga it is!”

“Do we get a say in this?” Ezra asked as Nora shoved his side with a smile.

“No. You don’t. I do though, and I say we start the night off with Jenga,” Nora told Ezra, as she helped FMC get the game out and set it up.

As FMC and Nora got the bricks and set them up, MMC explained the rules, “So, what you do is you choose a brick, you can’t take one from the top three rows though, you take your chosen brick and get it out, and place it on the top. And you try to make the tower stay up and not fall.”

“And if the tower falls either during your turn or just because of you in general, you’re out,” Omar continued to explain after MMC stopped.

After the two girls got the game setup, everyone argued over who was going to go first, while everyone else was distracted, going about saying they wanted to go first, Arin took a brick, taking first place.

“Okay FMC’s turn,” they said with a smile as everyone looked shell shocked, as FMC let out a laugh and went, taking a brick from the bottom, placing it on the top.

“That’s not- I’m next,” Ezra said and slapped away Lucas’s hand, earning a glare from him in return, but a second later he smiled and playfully rolled his eyes, letting Ezra take his turn.

Ezra had a focused look on his face as he looked at the tower, wondering which brick to take. As he did that Arin grabbed FMCs hand, intertwining their fingers, and as Arin went to whisper something in her ear, someone spoke making them back up.

“If you take too long you’re eliminated,” Omar said to Ezra as he glared back. He grabbed a random one in the middle, before placing it next to FMcs on top.

“See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” FMC teased her friend as he glared, but she could tell he was happy to be there.

“At least I didn’t cheat to go first,” Ezra replied as Arins’ jaw dropped, pretending to be offended.

“These claims you are making are not true, Ezra,” Arin said to him, with a smirk as he chuckled in response.

Lucas went next, taking one from the bottom, MMC going after, then Nora and Omar last.

The group went a couple of rounds, about five to be exact before it was MMcs turn, he went to grab a brick, being very careful, and as he slowly slid the brick, the tower wobbled, “Dammit,” he muttered as he finished taking the brick out, the tower falling just a few seconds after.

Everyone yelped, jumping back as it fell, FMC and Arin laughed as it fell, “It’s FMCs fault. I don’t know how, but I’m gonna blame her,” he said with a grin and laugh.

FMC gasped dramatically, “Really, dear dear brother?” She asked dramatically, as he replied immediately with a yes.

The gang played Jenga for about half an hour, the tower falling many times. After MMC was out, it was Ezra next, then Omar, Nora following him. Lucas lost after Nora, leaving just FMC and Arin.

The two smirked at each other, as they took bricks and placed them up, “I love you, Arin, but I’m not going to let you win,” FMC said with a sweet smile at her partner.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, you should be the one who’s worried about losing, love,” Arin said, their British accent ringing out, emphasizing when they said ‘love.’

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that,” FMC said as Arin went to take their turn, but before she gave them a deep kiss, to distract them into losing.

The girl leaned back, going away from the kiss, and Arin leaned more forward wanting more. “Your turn,” FMC said with a smirk.

The two may have shared several kisses, but Arin would always melt into a kiss, which caused FMCs plan of distracting them to be successful. They went to grab a brick, taking it out of the tower just a little too quickly, because the tower fell, following the brick being taken out.

FMC cheered, being the victor of the game, as everyone else laughed, as Arin chuckled, but looked at FMC, “cheater.”

The path finder looked appalled, “how could you make such claims at me, Arin!” She said dramatically. “I’ve never cheated, I’m a very loyal girlfriend.”

Arin smirked at her, “You know what I meant,” they told her.

Everyone began to grab the bricks and put the game up, putting them in the box. “So, what’s next?” Omar asked as he took a drink from his cup. When FMC, Arin, and Lucas were playing the others got out some alcohol, and got some drinks.

“We could play most likely to,” MMC suggested, as he grabbed another bottle, knowing they���d probably need it.

“What’s that?” Lucas asked, looking at MMC, expecting an answer from him, but FMC answered.

“You say ‘most likely to’ and follow it with something else, like ‘have a lot of children’ or ‘read a million books,’ and the number of people who point at you, that’s how much drinks you take,” FMC explained.

“For example, if I said ‘most likely to steal a box of donuts, however many of us point at you, Lucas, that’s how many drinks you take,” Arin told, giving an example of the game, as the others nodded.

“Why am I the example for that?” Lucas asked, slightly offended.

“Because you’re the most likely to steal a box of donuts,” MMC stated, kissing his boyfriend on his forehead.

“Ok, now that we’ve decided on what to do, who starts?” Nora asked as she and MMC got out some more cups for the game.

“We could go in order from what place they got in Jenga,” Omar suggested, as everyone nodded in agreement.

As they all sat down, the group looked at FMC for what question she was going to do, “Alright. Who’s most likely to..” she began before pausing for a minute to think, “most likely to write a book.”

Right after she finished speaking, everyone pointed at Arin, including FMC, “You trying to get me drunk, babe?” They asked, flicking FMCs leg before they took six shots, one for every finger pointing at them.

“Alright, who’s most likely to make a deal with someone they’ll regret later on,” Arin said, as Omar, Lucas, MMC, and FMC pointed at Ezra, and Ezra and Arin pointed at Lucas.

“Both of you, take drinks,” MMC said, as Lucas took two shots, and Ezra four.

“Alright,” Lucas said after finishing his drinks, “my turn!” the ever so hyper prince said, “who’s most likely to learn a musical instrument for someone they love,” he said as everyone's fingers pointed at MMC.

He took a couple of drinks before playfully rolling his eyes, “I don’t know how I fit into that, but ok.”

Nora beamed, “I’m next. So, who’s most likely to drive hours for one specific food?” She asked

“Lucas, take some shots,” MMC teased his boyfriend as everyone pointed at him, even himself.

“You guys are purposely targeting me, and I’m insulted,” He said, with pretend hurt in his voice, but he took the drinks, “go ahead, Omar.”

“Ok. I got a great one. Who’s most likely too…”

A couple of rounds went by, everyone taking drinks. Soon Arin leaned in, closer to their girlfriend, “as much as I love them, do you want to go somewhere by ourselves?” They whispered in her ear.

“Yeah, I’d love to get some just our time, but how are we supposed to just leave without them asking why?” FMC murmured back, as the guardian thought for a second.

“They’re probably drunk enough that we’ll only need a lame excuse and they won’t question it,” They answered.

“That, or you’re drunk enough to think that plan will work,” FMC teased her partner, as Arin playfully slapped her leg, making her laugh.

Arin was probably the most sobered out of everyone, so they could surely tell FMC was just joking.

“What are you two talking abouutt?” Ezra asked, his words slurring together from how drunk he was.

“Nothing, nothing,” FMC responded to his question, smiling at Arin, kissing their cheek.

“Alright. Well, Lucas, it’s your turn,” Ezra said as the prince nodded, and started to talk.

While Lucas took his turn, “who’s most likely to..” he started but was interrupted as he thought, when Arin spoke up.

“I’ll be back in a minute, I’m going to put the games up, FMC, want to help?” Arin said as they stood up, and FMC nodded, taking their hand.

The couple left the group, games in their hands as they walked to the closet, “Alright, what do you want to do now?” FMC asked as they softly closed the door, looking at Arin.

“We could hang out in your room, and do anything you want. Or play another game,” they suggested as FMC nodded.

“How about we watch some tv and cuddle?” FMC asked, grabbing Arins hands, intertwining their fingers, as they nodded in agreement.

“Are you two almost back?” Nora yelled across the house to the two who left.

“Yup, give us a minute!” The girl shouted back as she and Arin walked up the stairs to her room.

Once they got there, the two kicked off their shoes and headed over to FMCs bed, and turned on the Tv. The redhead pulled FMC towards them, holding her in their embrace, keeping her close, “I love you.”

“I love you too, you dork,” She responded as She cuddled Arin as they watched the tv.

The two watched the movie, talking about random things, and Arin played with FMcs hair, focusing more on her than the movie. Soon the both of them fell asleep.

It was probably midnight, or three am, no in-between, when MMC opened the door to her room, “Hey are you t-” he began to talk, but stopped, when he saw the other two members of the triad, asleep, with their legs tangled together. Lucas snickered looking at them, as MMC shook his head.

“Hope you two are sleeping well,” He softly told them from the doorframe as he walked in, turning off the Tv and bedroom light before leaving, letting the two rest.

[peaches-writes]

according to flora

description: growing up with jeongin according to the different shrubs and flowers around you member: jeongin / i.n. genre: fluff, childhood best friends to lovers au, neighbor au, slice of life, cottagecore elements (this is debatable) word count: 5.7k warning: mention of animal death (im so sorry) notes: some of these plants probably don’t grow in korea but whatever i need them for the plot + ending happens a year before ‘before one a.m.’ + i’m not confident w this pls go easy on me

makahiya ~ shy plant

When Yang Jeongin first moved into the neighbourhood when you were five, he and his brother let out a surprised gasp after stepping on their lawn. You were making flower crowns and trying to do ‘magic’ next door with your cat, immediately looking up at them from their loud reactions to the grass, the gears in your head concluding that they must have stepped on the shy plants that grew everywhere. 

“Do you think it’ll open again?” You overheard Jeongin’s brother ask curiously that day, squatting down on the grass.

Jeongin naturally followed, poking on the folded and now red leaves of the unusual plant. “It doesn’t seem to want to.” He muses sadly.

You took that as your cue to approach them, walking the small distance around the fence and poking Jeongin’s shoulder. He looks up at you with a small jump and wide eyes, almost falling on his butt and toppling over his brother next to him.

“Hello! You must be our neighbor!” His younger brother greeted instead for the two of them, waving politely at you with a small tree branch he found nearby. You waved back politely before extending the same hand to introduce yourself properly.

“The shy plant won’t open if you keep touching it.” You pointed out after the younger brother’s introduction, answering their query. “Just wait a little bit.”

“Shy plant?” Jeongin repeated, looking back down on the plant. At that, the leaves slowly began opening up again, returning to its vibrant green color as it stretches. “Wow!” He exclaims, touching it again and causing it to wrinkle back into a shy close but this time much clearer in front of him and his brother. “Cool!”

You smile in equal amazement, taking a step back and motioning over to your dividing fence and the tree across the Yang house’s lawn. “There’s more of them around your lawn, just look for the sharp leaves and maybe the pink flower that goes along with some of them since a lot of weeds and grass growing around here look like them too.”

His younger brother only nodded, muttering a quick thank you for tipping them off before running across the lawn, while Jeongin awkwardly stood up and extended his hand out for you to shake after realizing that he hasn’t introduced himself, “I’m Jeongin, by the way—we’re moving in today.”

“Y/N,” You shook his hand shyly, the unfamiliar feeling of holding someone else’s hand sending tingles down your spine. “I live next door.”

“Will you...” He trailed off, awkwardly placing his hand back to his side and darting his eyes everywhere but you. “Will you help us look for them?”

You nodded after a beat or silence, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. “Sure.”

When Mr. Yang expressed interest to maintain the grass on their lawn and backyard some time later, Jeongin made sure that his father didn’t cut any of the shy plants.

dwarf santan ~ jungle geranium

Since that day, Jeongin has naturally stuck by your side, helping you 'make potions’ on your front porch by picking out the flowers for you when unfamiliar bugs and pests guard them and climbing up the trees in your lawns and backyards for when you need leaves. No one from the nearest four blocks are around your age and Jeongin never really thought of himself as the type of kid to walk all the way to the other side of the neighbourhood just to maintain a friendship with a friend. 

Besides, he’s always thought that your company was enjoyable and enough. 

“What are you doing?” He asked you one morning as he approached you, seated in the middle of your backyard garden. It’s the day before his seventh birthday and he’s spent the entire week pretending to not notice how you’ve been crushing and mixing flower petals less in favor of studying the stems of your garden flowers. “What flower’s that?” 

You quickly hid the pink jungle geraniums in your back, scrambling to stand up when Jeongin stops right in front of you. “N-Nothing!” You stammered out a reply as you tried to stop yourself from gripping the small flowers too tightly and accidentally crushing them in nervousness. “It’s just...”

When you trailed off, trying to come up with another excuse for the 7th day in the row, Jeongin only sighed, scratching the nape of his neck. “You’ve been acting weird this whole week.” He pointed out to you bluntly, a small pout on his lips. “I don’t want to assume that it’s for my birthday but if it is, you can just show it to me now—it’s tomorrow anyway.” 

A beat of silence passes. When you didn’t speak, he quietly added, “I don’t like it when you act weird...”

And with that, you slowly took out the crown of jungle geraniums from behind your back, “I’ve been trying to make you this but I’m really bad at connecting the flowers.” You then held it in front of him, delicately placing them in his hands when he reached out for them. 

He held it up to his eye-level, as if inspecting it, before looking back at you, “Can you put it on for me?” He then took a tentative step towards you, placing the crown back in your hands with a slight shake in his hand. 

And equally as shaky with your hands, you tiptoed and placed it on top of his head, catching his smile when your heels reach the grass beneath your feet once again. “How do I look?” He asks, tilting his head from side to side that almost caused the crown to fall of his head. 

“Pretty.” You answered matter-of-factly, turning his close-lipped smile into a full grin when you fixed the crown again with more confidence and a chuckle. “Happy birthday.”

“T-thank you!” He blushes, his cheeks matching the pink of the flowers. “Can you...can you teach me how to make this?” 

He especially left out the part that he wants to make one for you, too shy at the time to say it out loud.  

“Yeah—yeah, just help me pick out the ones you like.” You replied before leading him by the hand to the very back of your garden where the shrubs are. 

You then spent the rest of the afternoon teaching him how to make crowns and bracelets as well as convincing him that drinking the sap on the geraniums is okay. 

“It’s very sweet,” You told him as you suck on one while you work. “Some are bitter but it’s almost always sweet.” 

Jeongin went home with a whole stem of geraniums after, showing it and his flower crown proudly to his brothers. 

On your birthday that followed after this, you found a bracelet of jungle geraniums conveniently left on the pillar of your front porch. You still have this bracelet, pressed between the pages of your favorite book in a circle. 

rose

You and Mrs. Yang encouraged Jeongin to join his first school singing competition in the 3rd grade because if there’s something you and your best friend’s mom have in common, it’s your endless admiration for his singing skills. Mrs. Yang always encouraged her son to sing and perform during parties while you grew up to your best friend singing to you and the plants that you grew. 

So, for an entire month leading up to the talent show, you spent all your weekends in Jeongin’s room, clumsily playing the piano with him as he practiced trot songs. 

And, on the day before the competition, Jeongin’s mom sneaked you out of your practice sessions so you can help her buy his son a congratulatory bouquet at the supermarket. 

“So, Y/N, roses or tulips?” Mrs. Yang asked you as you stood in front of the shelves of plastic bouquet wrappings and vibrant flower arrangements. 

“Oh, um...” You examined the flowers closely, tiptoeing around the sides. You’ve always known that tulips and roses are traditionally given to say congratulations after competitions but something about the baby’s breath caught your eye. In a way, it seemed more fitting for your best friend. “Mrs. Yang, can we get the bouquet full of baby’s breaths?” 

But Mrs. Yang chuckled in response, albeit without any malice, “Sweetheart, we need to get our Jeongin a big bouquet, especially if he wins.” She then took a big bouquet of roses and another of tulips in the same size, both decorated with baby’s breaths, and held them in front of you. “but, we can buy a bouquet with baby’s breath on it, just not as the main flower in the arrangement.” 

You ended up nodding along, picking the bouquet of roses. 

Jeongin later won the singing competition. Mrs. Yang allowed you to hold the bouquet through the entire program and eventually give it to him when the awards have been given and the pictures have been taken. 

“Congratulations!” You practically ran halfway across the auditorium to him on the side of the stage, almost shaking the petals off the flowers.

“Thank you!” Jeongin grinned shyly at you, holding the big bouquet in one of his small hands as he pulled you into a hug with the other. “These are so pretty!”

“Your mom and and I picked them out at the supermarket.” You recalled as you slowly pulled away from his hug after a moment, hands unconsciously coming up once again to fix the baby’s breath and roses that have wrinkled slightly from all the running and hugging. 

Jeongin mimicked your actions almost instantly, his free hand going to the baby’s breath instead of the roses to admire them. “I like the baby’s breath the best, they’re so cute,” He commented nonchalantly. “but the roses are beautiful, too.” 

You hum through your heart doing a small unfamiliar flip in your chest. “I like them the best too.”

kalachuchi ~ plumeria

Hana, your family’s Persian cat of thirteen years, died some time in the summer before your 7th grade from old age. You don’t remember much from that period of time in your life but endless crying in your bedroom and a small funeral you held in your backyard with Jeongin, his two brothers, and a few friends from school. 

“We’re sorry about Hana again.” One of your friends, Chaeryeong, hugged you before leaving. Since the weather seemed appropriately gloomy on that Sunday morning, everyone had to leave right after before it rained harshly as predicted on the weather forecast. 

“Thank you.” Hugging her back tightly, you then bid her a second goodbye as her parents’ car arrived.

With that, only you and Jeongin were left standing in your front lawn, waiting for the rain to come. With a sigh, you quietly turned around with the intention of trudging back inside your house, only to be stopped by Jeongin wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a hug. 

The gesture immediately encouraged the reemergence of tears on your face. 

“I’m so sorry about Hana,” He mumbled against the nook of your neck, hugging you tighter when he heard you choke back sobs. He pats your back comfortingly, swaying you from side to side and humming gently to ease you. 

You stood there for what seemed to be a long time, until it started drizzling in light rain and your mom appeared on your front porch and gestured for Jeongin to bring you inside the house. Hesitantly, you let your best friend take you inside, his arm never leaving your shoulder until the two of you sat down on the sofa in your living room.

“Can I hug you again, please?” You asked next to him when he brought his arm back to his side, the absence of his arms feeling uncomfortable in the moment somehow. 

Hearing your small voice broke his heart instantly. He nodded with a small hum, letting you snake your arms around his waist this time as he brings his arm back on your shoulder. The downpour outside became harsh almost instantly, the different flowers and shrubs growing right below your windows crashing against the glass panes that suddenly gave him an idea. 

Over a month later towards the end of that summer, when you and Jeongin came home from the animal shelter and adopted an orange tabby named Mimi, the two of you ended up chasing the energetic kitten to Hana’s grave in the hidden corner of your backyard—only to find a plumeria tree growing on top of its small mound. 

“Oh? What’s that, Mimi?” You crouched down in front of the tree as Mimi sniffed the small white flowers, your eyes beginning to sting. Jeongin, a few steps behind you, immediately slowed down running at seeing where you ended up. “That’s a plumeria.” 

You turned to Jeongin after, mustering up a small smile for him. “Did you do this?” 

He nods as if unsure, crossing the remaining distance to you and sitting down crisscross on the grass. “When the rain stopped, I found grown cuttings in our backyard and,” He shrugged, momentarily being distracted by your new kitten as she finished sniffing the flowers and proceeded to climb up his lap. “you did tell me one time that plumerias mean new beginnings.” 

Overwhelmed with the gesture, you let yourself fall back on the grass, leaning over to Jeongin to press your forehead to his shoulder blade gratefully. “You remember these kinds of things I tell you?” 

You hear him hum next to you, his shoulders moving slightly as he plays with your new cat. “I remember everything you tell me.” He clarified as nonchalantly as he could muster. “...and I know flowers make you the happiest.” 

“You make me the happiest.” You muttered under your breath in response, not knowing that he heard it clearly. “Thank you so much...this—this means a lot to me.”    

bougainvillea 

You went on your first overnight field trip three years later in your 12th grade, right after your college entrance exams. The destination wasn’t far from school but the retreat house’s ambiance was somehow entirely different from the city outside its gate because of the area’s unusual amount of pine trees encircling it. Compared to the towering skyscrapers and bland-colored suburban neighbourhoods you’ve gotten used to, the retreat house felt like an entirely different world and the entire trip felt like a healing from school stress. 

“Look at all these pine trees, Innie!” You exclaimed on the second morning, when you woke up an hour early and found Jeongin wandering around the retreat house’s extensive mini forest. Looking up as you walked alongside him on the trail heading to the mess hall, you couldn’t help but marvel at the trees and their calming presence. “They look like they could reach the sky!”

Next to you, you missed the way Jeongin briefly casted his eyes away from the pine trees to have a good look at you, grinning at your familiar bright eyes and agape lips that only comes out whenever you looked at plants. 

He considers himself lucky you never seemed to notice the way he always looks for this particular expression of yours. You didn’t know it at the time but he‘s always thought you’re the prettiest admiring the flora around you. 

“They are,” He verbally agreed after a while once he’s successfully made himself look away from you to watch the morning sunlight filter in through the trees. Looking around, an archway of unfamiliar vibrant pink and greenish white immediately caught his eyes, pointing it to you. “Hey, look at that.”

You followed his gaze, seeing bougainvilleas for the first time. “Bougainvilleas!“ You smartly named the plant, remembering it from one of the books you used to read to Jeongin. “We should check it out.”

Hurriedly, the two of you then approached the archway leading to a hidden garden. The ground dipped a little to form a slope underneath your slippers as you entered, catching Jeongin off-guard until you expertly steadied him by his arms.

“Careful!” You hissed playfully, gently pushing a stray branch of the pink bougainvilleas above his head when he’s regained composure and stood up straighter.

“Right, sorry!” He laughed before walking a little slower behind you to admire the flowers.

You then busied yourself after by whipping out your phone and taking photos of the flowers, snapping a couple of candid shots for Jeongin as well. You wandered around the archway in relative silence, noticing a couple more different flowers as you walk closer to the other side.

“Ow,” You suddenly heard Jeongin wince behind you after a while, immediately making you turn to him in worry. Catching your gaze, he shows you the hand he pricked on one of the thorns, luckily intact. “Thorns.”

You sighed at his clumsiness, taking a step toward him and taking his hand in yours to inspect it further. “I told you to be more careful,” You scolded him under your breath, heaving another sigh afterwards but this time in relief while massaging the pad of his index finger. “Their thorns might give you rashes.”

“Sorry...” He sheepishly apologizes, curling up his fingers above your hand as if to retract them back to his side.

But you keep his hand in place, bringing your linked hands down between the two of you. “We should get ointment for this, though,” You conclude, walking him now back to the trail. “Just to be sure.”

“O...kay...” He trails off in a daze, clumsily keeping up with your brisk walking to the mess hall.

Your Homeroom adviser would check up on Jeongin after, almost mistaking his blushing cheeks for signs of illness. 

baby’s breath 

In the summer that followed, when you’ve received your acceptance letters and graduated high school, you scheduled a packing day for university three days before you went to Seoul with Jeongin and his older brother. Video calling on your laptops and occasionally waving at each other through your nearly adjacent bedroom windows, you spent the entire day going through your things and arranging them in bags and boxes.

This is when you stumbled upon your books of pressed flowers.

Jeongin didn’t notice it at first, how your screen suddenly became silent, too engrossed for a while with running his hands through his keyboard which he hasn’t touched in a year to focus on studying. He played familiar melodies, mostly trot songs, for a while—looking up to you on the screen only after the fifth song and realizing that you’ve been standing in one distant spot the entire time, going through one of your hardbound books.

He walked over to his laptop perched amidst the mess on his bed at this, sitting down in front of it before calling your attention, “What’s that?”

The sudden voice made you close your book with a loud thud and you turned to Jeongin in surprise, “You startled me!”

He laughed through a quick apology before repeating his question, “What were you reading?”

“Oh,” Your hands unconsciously ran through the hardbound covers, opening it again to the page you were on previously. Walking to your laptop screen as well, you carefully tilted your book in front of the screen and showed him the the dried baby’s breath tucked in between the pages. “Remember when someone gave me a branch of baby’s breath on Valentine’s Day in the 10th grade? I forgot that I pressed it in a book and—I didn’t expect it to come out this pretty!”

Jeongin remembered. Of course he did, he almost died of anxiousness sneaking it around you at the time in an effort to be anonymous.

Braving through the butterflies that suddenly erupted in his chest, he coughed awkwardly once then replied, “Yeah, I remember. Didn’t it have a—a note?”

“Oh, right!” You exclaimed, retracting the book back to you and flipping through the pages until you found the card. “Here it is!” You then showed the perfectly preserved pink card he made, the words he printed on the paper barely visible on the screen but he knew each and every one in there until this point enough to get flustered. “This was really sweet, pity the sender never revealed themself.”

Though all the gears in Jeongin’s head urged him to reveal himself to you at that moment, he clumsily blurted out a small and almost dismissive ‘yeah,’ at your comment, letting the opportunity go as you then switched the topic to finding the jungle geranium bracelet he made for you, tucked in another book.

This would continue to bother Jeongin until the two of you were seated in the back of his older brother’s car, en route to Seoul, when he noticed the books in one of your bags, pointing to it and asking why you brought them.

“I collected all my pressed flowers into this one book—in case I miss home,” You answered after taking out the book from your bag. Flipping randomly, you ended up on the dried baby’s breath again—now reunited with its accompanying card. “Look, it’s the baby’s breath again.”

You then handed the card for him to read when he asked, noticing the way his hand slightly trembled in front of you.

“You complete all the empty spaces of my heart, like baby’s breath on sophisticated bouquets. Thank you for bringing more color and detail into my life. Without you, roses will only be intimidating and tulips insincere. Happy Valentine’s Day.” He read, nudging you on the shoulder after. “You like these kinds of things?”

“You don’t?” You shot back, taking the card from him once again and carefully placing it back on your book. “It’s a little cheesy but I think it’s nice.”

“Really?” He asked in disbelief, feeling light-heated all of a sudden.

“Yeah...” You shrugged back in response, fingers tapping on the book’s cover. “Like I said, it’s sweet.”

You especially left out the part that you’ve always hoped it was him who sent it.

Next to you, Jeongin felt like he could explode right there and then. He’s keep this in mind ever since. 

cherry blossom

Your Freshman Orientation was everything but calm and laid back. From playing an intense game of modified musical chairs to dividing the entire auditorium in smaller groups to compete in a treasure hunt around the building; you, Jeongin, and your newfound friends, Seungmin, Felix, Hyunjin, and Jisung, were completely exhausted at the end of the day.

Luckily, your facilitator, a music major named Chan, prepared a relatively calmer final activity before parting ways with your group at the end of the day. The instruction was to write short messages to each other on origami cherry blossoms and exchange them with each other. Provided with endless bundles of pink and red colored papers, you spent the last twenty minutes of your school hours on that day coming up to people, making small talk, then writing compliments or Twitter handles on your cherry blossoms.

Naturally, since you knew each other very well already, you and Jeongin made it a point to exchange origamis last. You didn’t have to, Seungmin pointed out, but you and Jeongin mutually insisted.

“It’s like a fresh start,” You explained to Seungmin before the group dispersed.

Jeongin nodded along in agreement, “But with the same people.”

Hyunjin dramatically gushed how he thought that the gesture is so sweet. Felix and Jisung, meanwhile, simply nodded along and agreed that it is cute, while Seungmin was quick to catch onto Jeongin (as he had the entire day) that there might be something going on between the two of you.

So, you approached Jeongin after he’s met up with everyone in your group, handing him the prettiest origami cherry blossom you made.

“I wrote it inside the paper.” You told him shyly when his expression turned into that of confusion at seeing the petals empty. “Can you read it when you get back to the dorms?”

“Why?” He asks bluntly with a small frown, fingers hovering over the petals as if tempted to unfold them. “Did you write anything weird? Are you actually transferring schools?”

Your eyes widen and you wave your hand dismissively, “No, no! Just...read it later!”

"Okay.” And true to his word, Jeongin waited until he and Jisung returned to their shared dorm before opening your letter. 

“‘Did you know that cherry blossoms symbolize life changes? Like new beginnings.’” You wrote in your neatest handwriting despite the lack of tables and flat surfaces back at the auditorium. “‘But you’re still here and I’m glad. Thank you for growing up by my side. I hope we continue to until even after this point in our lives. Y/N.’”

Jisung, who was peering over Jeongin’s shoulders annoyingly the entire time, shook his shoulders violently until it was time to cook dinner time. “You two are so adorable! Are you dating? You better be dating!” He exclaimed, attacking the younger boy exaggeratedly.

The last question only made Jeongin frown, pushing his roommate away immediately. “We’re not dating or anything.” He sighed. “Y/N’s just—someone I’ve spent all my life with.”

“Didn’t you say you met when you were five? That’s not your entire life.” Jisung pointed out before a smirk overtook his features. “So if you’re not dating, you like them, then?”

Jeongin looked over silently at Jisung next to him after, catching the older boy’s anticipating expression as he himself contemplated on the question. Though his brothers caught on quickly early on, Jeongin himself as never verbally voiced out his feelings for you before.

But it’s Jisung and even when he’s caused so much trouble throughout orientation, Jeongin decided he could trust him. “Yeah...” He trails off, much to Jisung’s satisfaction. Saying it out loud felt weird but also familiar somehow that Jeongin can’t help but blush. “But don’t tell anyone!” 

Jisung surprisingly kept his mouth shut about it for a grand total of three months, when he ended up accidentally telling Seungmin in front of Jeongin during one break time they happened to share together. 

“So? What am I going to do with this information?” Seungmin asked unfazed during this particular lunch. 

Though he’s said this, however, he was already raking his brain for what he deemed as his most evil scheme yet. 

“Don’t tell Y/N, duh.” Jeongin answered with a pointed look at Jisung sitting next to Seungmin. Jisung only returns this look with a bashful grin and a peace sign help up in the air. “I swear, Jisung, if you’re not months older than me—”

“I pay half the dorm rent too.” Jisung adds unhelpfully, making Jeongin place his hand on his face and groan. 

Luckily, the two have only gossiped to Hyunjin and Felix, occasionally almost letting it slip right in front of you but holding back every time. 

pink carnations

A week before Valentine’s Day, Jeongin found himself walking an entire two feet away from Seungmin along the empty crafts store aisles, begrudgingly dragging a small wheeled cart behind him. Seungmin has given up scolding him for trailing behind so slowly a long time ago and has decided on just carrying as many items as he can in his arms before walking back to the younger boy. Somewhere, you were also wandering around, albeit in a different aisle with Felix, as you try to find the other half of your buying list.

At this point, Jeongin really just wanted to strangle whoever came up with the idea of having a dorm party and a Secret Valentine exchange gift (Kim Seungmin).

“Stop frowning, you look ugly.” Seungmin suddenly snapped him out of his daydreams after a while, carefully dumping packs of colored paper and bottles of glitter on the cart.

Jeongin narrowed his eyes in response, crossing his arms, “You come up with an exchange gift for Hyunjin.”

At this response, Seungmin only scoffed, taking the cart on one hand and dragging Jeongin along with him with the other. “We both know that’s not why you’re frowning.” He stated matter-of-factly as the two transfered to another aisle. “If you’re thinking about buying Y/N something or, you know, confessing, I’m telling you, just do it. It’s Valentine’s, anyway.” 

Jeongin rolled his eyes. “It’s not that easy! And it’s really not the right time to confess.”

“When is the right time?” Seungmin prodded on, stopping right in front a display of party cups. This crafts store has everything for some reason. “You’re in your first year of uni, you just finished your second semester midterms, and your wingman friends have time until finals to help you out. When else is the right time?”

The younger boy rolled his eyes, helping Seungmin examine different party cup designs now. “That’s exactly why it’s the worst time ever: it’s Valentine’s, we’re still adjusting to university, and we have four mutual friends trying to wingman terribly.” 

“If you don’t plan on confessing then at least give Y/N something, they’re your best friend and they deserve it on a holiday like this.” Seungmin sighed exasperatedly, picking a design after a while. “Plus, it’s not like you haven’t given Y/N gifts in other holidays or anything of the sort before. Just think of it casually like you would do with Christmases or birthdays.”

As if on dramatic cue, the two boys see you and Felix pass by after, laughing at something on the latter’s phone while dragging along a cart of buntings and cartolinas. Seungmin had to physically snap his fingers in front of Jeongin again to get his attention.

“I...” Jeongin trailed off, sighing towards the end when you disappear. “I’ve only given them something on Valentine’s once and it was—well, it was anonymous.” 

"What?” Seungmin blinked twice in disbelief. “You have a best friend who’s into flowers, literally the most common Valentine’s Day gift, yet you’ve never officially given them anything on such day before?” 

“Valentine’s is just too obvious, even if they don’t know how I feel—” Jeongin sighed helplessly before frowning at his own words. “It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”   

“Yeah,” Seungmin nodded fervently, lightly smacking Jeongin in the head with his party cups. “Took you long enough to realize. Like I said, you don’t have to have romantic intentions if you can’t confess right now.” 

“Ugh, what do I do?” Jeongin scratched his head in frustration, realizing at that moment that it does sound a bit stupid not giving you anything on Valentine’s before. 

The older boy sighed, though he seriously contemplated on it for a moment. “The market’s on the other entrance of the crafts store,” He finally said after a while, shaking Jeongin’s hand off his arm. “Pick out something simple, not too big and extravagant because it’d be a waste seeing them wilt after a while, as long as it can be meaningful for the two of you.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened at this. “Really?”

And Seungmin only nods, shooing him with his hands, “Yeah, yeah, go, but make it back here before we go to checkout.”

“I owe you one.” Jeongin grinned happily, sprinting out of the bookstore. 

Now left alone, Seungmin joined you and Felix on another aisle, showing you his and Jeongin’s cart.

“But where’s Jeongin?” You asked curiously, looking around for any sign of your best friend.

“Oh, he went to the bathroom.” Seungmin lied smoothly with a reassuring grin. “Now, what else do we need?”

-

Later on at the Valentine’s day dorm party, once the exchange gifts have been done, Jeongin approaches you at the end of the night as you prepare to head back up to your dorm with the last gift he’s been carefully carrying around with him. 

“Oh? Innie, hi.” You smile up at him when he jogs up to you by the staircase, immediately noticing the wrapped gift in his hands. “What’s that? Do you want me to give that to my roommate?” 

The boy only shakes his head in front of you before thrusting the gift in your hands. “No, no, it’s for you.” He clarifies, letting go of the wrapped package only when it’s safely in both of your hands as you adjust to its surprising weight. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” 

“But I didn’t make you anything.” You frown, one hand fiddling with the ribbon tying the newspaper packaging together. 

You and Jeongin have never exchanged gifts on Valentine’s Day or even White Day before (or at least from what you know). You once told him that you get enough flowers and other little gifts from him on other days and he’s always told you that he enjoys just spending time casually with you on this particular day. 

And you’ve always thought that, even with your crush on him, you don’t think he owes you something on these kinds of days. 

“It’s fine.” You hear Jeongin reassure you after a while. “Just open it when you get back to your room.” 

The familiar words make you giggle. “Why? Did you make something weird?” 

He catches on after a slight delay, laughing along with you. “No!” He waves his hand dismissively. “Just open it later.” 

“Okay.” You then transfer the gift to one hand in order to hug Jeongin properly. “I’m giving you a hug because I don’t have anything to exchange with you right now but expect something on White Day, okay?” 

“You don’t have to give me anything on White Day.” He pats your back with a laugh, his heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears now. 

“We’ll see.” You conclude before parting ways with him, bidding him a second goodnight and going up to your dorms first. 

When you arrive back in your dorm, the first thing you do is to take the gift back in your room and unwrap it, finding a small jar turned into a terrarium of dried pink carnations and baby’s breaths inside. 

The note attached to it reads, “’Y/N! I was surprised you kept the baby’s breath. I didn’t think of drying flowers until you showed them to me so here’s my own attempt, that maybe these flowers can last for as long as we’ve been together. Happy Valentine’s Day!” 

It didn’t take you long to connect the dots together, a sigh of relief passing your lips as your chest now feels lighter with your worries vanishing. 

You can finally and clearly tell that Jeongin likes you too. 

Picking up the terrarium from the newspaper wrappings before throwing the latter away, you examine the smaller details inside, your heart melting at the visible effort Jeongin spent making you such an intricate gift. 

Touched by this gesture, you then spend the rest of the night coming up with Jeongin’s White Day gift. 

[dokoni-mo]

Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 6)

(A/N: I had originally planned to do post this friday, but I was just on such a roll last night that this bad boy practically wrote itself! Im very happy with the turnout as well :)) I hope y’all like it too!!! I also realized while writing this that the series will have to be one chapter longer than I had originally intended, but that’s just good news in my book!! As always, please feel free to ask to be put on the taglist for anything or send me asks about anything!! I love interacting with yall and making content for yall!! enjoy more time with our favorite sith ;) ))) 

WARNINGS: cursing, old man kinda creeping, breif mentions of violence, otherwise none!!! 

Key: (F/N) = first name 

Word Count: ~5600

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Three: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

Chapter Five: [x]

Chapter Five and a Half: [x]

~~

You hadn’t meant to be late that morning, but nonetheless, you were. Unquestionably so. 

Waking up in the silk sheets that morning had been one of the most difficult things that you had ever had to do. For one, the bed was quite comfortable compared to the cot that you normally slept upon in your quarters back on the Super Star Destroyer. The cot that the Empire provided you was almost exactly like the Empire itself. Cold, hard, and not comfortable at all. The bed there on that planet, however, was the opposite. It was warm, inviting, and very comfortable. You would have simply cocooned yourself back in the covers and fallen back asleep were it not for you remembering your duty. 

Alongside leaving the comfort, waking up that morning meant that the time you had spent with Lord Vader the night prior was officially over. For a brief moment in your groggy, freshly woken-up state, you had thought that the dance you shared with Lord Vader must have been a dream. A wonderful, yet cruel dream of what you knew could never be. However, contemplating it a moment longer, you knew that it was, in fact, very much real. Sitting up to look sleepily at your surroundings, you felt the phantom touch of Lord Vader’s arm around your waist, his hand within yours. Going back further, you replayed the conversation you had had with him in your mind, cementing the thought within your memory. 

You smiled to yourself then. You knew that you would cherish that moment forever.

After picking up your uniform and pulling it's cloth upon your body, you decided that it would be best to simply just cut to the chase and go downstairs instead of stalling in your room for an indefinite amount of time. As you opened the door and clacked your boots down the hallway, a yawn escaped from behind your lips, making you raise your hand to your mouth to muffle the sound. As you drew closer to the stairs, you started to hear muffled voices from below you, your ears unable to decipher what exactly the voices were saying. 

Your curiosity taking over you, you slowed your steps so that you could concentrate on the voices, your ears perking as you honed in on what they were picking up. After a moment of investigation, your mind was able to process the tone of the voice you heard, but not necessarily the words of which it was speaking. Your brow furrowed as you searched your mind for where exactly you had heard that voice before. The memory seemed so distant from your conscious, yet so very close. 

The face that matched the voice hit you like a ton of bricks. 

That face was old and nasty. 

That face had blue eyes. 

Shit. 

You were late. Very, very late. 

Adrenaline pumping through you, you bounded down the stairs faster than you had ever before on any set of stairs. You cursed how loud the sound of your boots stomping quickly on top of the surface of each step sounded, eliminating your chances of joining the meeting quietly and undetectably. Drawing quickly down the stairs, you were greeted with a sight of confirmation of exactly how late you were. About 50 feet away from you stood a handful of palace guards, another handful of stromtroopers and officers, one king, and, of course, one extremely tall sith lord, looming above the rest as he always did.

Walking quickly over to the group to assume your position at Lord Vader’s side, it was extremely difficult to not notice the stares you got from the officers and, more-so, the king. Meeting his blue gaze for a moment, you felt your cheeks rush with embarrassment. It was only then that you had allowed your mind to go back further into the events of the past night. 

The king’s hands on you. 

The conversation you had. 

The broken glass. 

You should have been ashamed to show your face. But, you weren’t. You were proud that you had put that old man in his damn place. 

You were ashamed, however, of exactly how much you suspected you would be chewed-out by Lord Vader for being late two days in a row. 

Oh well. 

Standing with your arms crossed over your chest, you found your position by Lord Vader’s side, shooting up a small, quick smile at the sith Lord. He turned briefly to acknowledge your presence before returning to his original position of staring down at the old king. This made you puff your cheeks slightly, disappointed that he didn’t do anything else. Thinking it over a moment longer, you decided that you shouldn’t be too upset. This was technically a meeting, to be fair. 

Returning your gaze to face forward, you were met by the sight of the king’s gaze trained upon you. The look he gave to you was one of an odd flurry of amusement and daggers, his lips in a slight smirk. Your eyes hardened in return, refusing to let you submit to the old asshole’s gaze. 

“Well,” the king said, a breathy chuckle in his voice, “Look who has decided to join us! Good morning, Miss (F/N).” 

You put on the best half-friendly smile that you could before formulating your response, “Good morning, your majesty.” 

If you had simply trained on his words, you would have convinced yourself that perhaps the king had decided to continue on like the previous night’s actions had never occurred. However, you knew that his eyes had told a different story. Yet, you were confused. It was hard to tell what exact game he was trying to play

 Furthermore, it was hard to tell if you really wanted to play. 

“Well,” the king said, clapping his gloved hands together, “Now that everyone is here, allow me to guide the way.” 

Turning on his heel and walking the other direction, you figured that you must have missed the details of the day while you were getting ready that morning. Sighing silently to yourself, you picked up your boots to follow the king, as well as the barrage of guards, stormtroopers, and officers that tailed him. 

This had been your original plan, until it was sharply and swifty interrupted by a large weight throwing itself upon your shoulder, simultaneously pulling you back and keeping you in place. Your mouth opened to let out a yelp, but your lungs prevented this with a moment's more worth of constipation. 

You recognized this weight. 

“You are late again.” You heard the weight’s owner say from behind you, your cheeks turning pink.

Turning your body to face the sith lord behind you, you crossed your arms again as you looked up at him, a small smile on your features. 

“I like to think that I’m just fashionably late again, my Lord.” You quipped back at him, “What do we have to do today?” 

He gave you a strong pat on the shoulder before walking past you, slow enough for you to keep up, “Our host will be showing us what his planet has to offer the Empire, along with its natural resources.” 

 You walked to catch up with Lord Vader, letting your arms fall to your sides. 

“How exciting…” you mumbled out. 

You continued to walk in silence for a long moment beside the sith lord, unsure of what to say. You desperately wanted to say something, anything, but the words just would and could not come to you. Every now and again, you would open your mouth to say something, but would quickly second guess what it was, causing you to shut it again. You began to grow somewhat frustrated that you couldn’t find the words. You hoped that you didn’t look as dumb as you felt. 

Lord Vader must have sensed the frustration growing inside of you as he looked down at your small frame, noticing how your brow was furrowed as you stared at your feet in compilation. He would never admit it to anyone, but he found it to be… 

Amusing. 

Returning his gaze to it's original position, you heard the sound of his respirator pick up in rhythm before he spoke. 

“(F/N),” Lord Vader said, “I sense that you are frustrated.” 

You felt your gut sink as you processed the words, shooting a look up at him. Damn, you thought to yourself, is it that obvious?

“I… I don’t know what you mean.” you responded. This was a half lie. You had known exactly what he meant by the words, but not what exactly he was trying to say. So what if you were frustrated? Every time he came to visit you while you were working on his TIE you were frustrated. What made now so special? 

Lord Vader paused again before rumbling out his response, the metal of his armor gleaming in the light of the day. 

“I enjoyed our night together as well.” 

Oh. 

That’s what made now special.

Your heart had skipped multiple beats at his words. Your nerves were firing off a mile a minute as waves of joy rippled through you. You had not realized that you were nervous about whether or not he actually wanted to be with you last night, or if he was simply doing it to get away from the mingling he had to do. Your doubt quieted, you looked up at Lord Vader’s mask, a big smile painted on your features. Sensing your gaze, Lord Vader pointed his mask to look down upon you. 

“I’m… glad. Really glad.” you said up at him, your eyes crinkling in delight, “I… hope that it wasn’t the last one.” 

You shot your gaze down back to your feet after you finished talking, your smile fading into a soft, faint stretch of your lips. You were surprised how bold you had been just then, admitting your true feelings to the sith. Where you should have felt embarrassed, you felt instead… content. You didn’t regret your actions at all. You felt comfortable even. If you had been anyone else, you knew that you would have been sliced in half or choked to death right then and right there. Yet, by some grace that was far bigger than you, you knew deep down, you were lucky enough to be excluded from that fate.

You thanked your maker above silently and unconsciously. 

Lingering his gaze upon you a moment longer, Lord Vader drank in the sight of your flushed face before turning his armor-clad head to face forward again, as if he were looking something very, very far away. His words came a moment filled with nothing but the sound of birds, the breeze, and his respirator allowing him to inhale and exhale later. 

“As do I.” 

~~~

The places that the King had taken you, Lord Vader, and the posse of troopers and officers were pretty, but not all that interesting. A tour of the city, a look at the forest, a look at the sea, and a look at the sports colosseum. Again, all very beautiful to look at, but not too interesting to talk about. 

You had been able to avoid any sort of contact with the king as you trudged through the sights of the city, keeping your mouth shut and your eyes trained on the view around you. Every now and again, your group would begin to walk without you even realizing. You were always broken from your trance by Lord Vader, either by him calling out your name or leading you on by the small of your back for a brief moment, his giant hand nearly taking up the entire expanse. Both would always make you smile up at him, and the latter would make you blush. 

You were currently atop of a platform that looked over a medium-sized waterfall, the sound of the water falling off the edge filling your ears. The air was thick with the smell of salt, and the dew that emanated off of the falls making the atmosphere humid, but pleasantly so with the breeze that fluttered your hair. Across the stretch of rock that you stood upon was the entrance to one of the largest mines on the planet, the cave so large you had to crane your neck to look atop it. The few stalactites and stalagmites that stuck out of the entrance gleamed and littered in the sunlight, emanating many hues of the rainbow. If you weren’t here representing the Empire, you would have almost thoroughly enjoyed the setting. 

“I will give you a few moments to look around, my Lord. I have to discuss something with my advisors for a brief moment.” The king had said to your boss after blubbering on for a long while about the history of the mine and the resources that were found inside. With a nod of approval from Lord Vader, the king gave one last snake-like smirk and walked off, giving you some sort of look. You felt a sour taste on your tongue as you rolled your eyes, making sure that the king’s gaze was turned away before you did so. 

You had hoped to take a short walk with Lord Vader while the two of you were on break from mingling, but you were disappointed to see his attention be taken away by an officer who demanded his attention. You would have been saddened, were it not for you remembering that the visit to that damn planet wasn’t just a get away for you and Lord Vader to hold hands all day and walk into the sunset together. There was work to be done and deals to be made, and that always seemed to involve him in some way.

Awesome. 

Deciding to not try and make friends with the guards or strike up a conversation with the stormtroopers, you placed a hand on your hip as you started to slowly walk around the stone platform. You had eyed some of the members of the posse as you walked by, quietly wondering what their daily lives were like or what their thoughts on Lord Vader’s visit. Sighing to yourself, you realized that they must be just as boring as your own. 

As you continued to stroll about the platform and gaze absentmindedly at the people that littered it, a certain sight had caught your attention. You didn’t mean specifically to look at the king, but your eyes had somehow fallen upon him. Just as he said he would, he was currently talking to a few guardsmen who seemed to have a few more matches and medals than the rest. Captains and generals, you took it. 

Lingering your gaze a moment longer, you felt a jolt rush through your spine as your lips parted. While the king was whispering to his guards, he had taken a moment to look over his shoulder at you, a glint of venom in his eyes. This glint quickly dissipated, however, once he realized that his blue eyes had made sudden contact with yours. With this, he quickly let his gaze fall as he continued to talk quietly with his advisors, as if he had hoped you did not notice this action. 

However, quite the contrary, you had noticed as plain as day. Processing what had just happened, you allowed your brow to furrow.

What was that for? You wondered to yourself. The obvious answer, the one you wanted so desperately to believe, was that the look you had exchanged was by pure accident, the tone of his look being from the king’s residual loathing from the night prior. However, as much as you wanted to believe that, you gut told a different story. You felt… odd. 

You decided to do something about it. 

Marching past all the other people dispersed in the crowd, you only stopped when you were within conversation distance between the king and his huddle of guards. You had noticed that their voices had grown quieter and quieter as you had approached. 

“Did you want to speak with me, your majesty?” you asked, raising your voice so that you could be heard over the bodies of the guardsmen as you placed a hand on your hip. 

A moment of awkward hesitation loomed over the air as the king exchanged a few glances with the guards, causing you to raise a brow. Smirking and stepping forward, the king placed his hands behind his back as he looked down at you. 

“Now where would you get that idea, my dear?” the king asked you, his tone so sickeningly sweet it made you wince. 

We made eye contact, dumbass. 

“I saw that you were looking my way, your majesty,” you responded, “and I just figured-” 

“What? That I would ever want to speak with the likes of you again?” 

Your mouth opened slightly in shock at his sudden change of tone, your legs moving to shift your weight. Excuse me?

“W-What?” you stammered out, the shock still in your veins, “no, I just-” 

“Don’t get smart again with me, missy.” the king hissed out, stepping forward and glaring down at you, his finger in your face, “Don’t think that I have forgotten how you embarrassed me in front of my entire entourage last night.” 

Oh. 

This was what this is about. 

Not letting yourself back down, you placed both hands on your hips, your brow furrowing again as you shot up a glare right back at the blue-eyed old man. 

“Embarrassed you? How about when you embarrassed me?! Looking at me like that, talking to me like that, are you out of your-” 

“Shut up,” the king spat, cutting you off. Suddenly and without warning, he reached out and grabbed you by the collar, making your eyes widen. You wrapped your hands around his wrist and tried to pull away, only for him to pull you closer to his glare. 

“Do you really think that you could pull that sort of stunt and get away with it? I swear, I will-” 

“Is there something wrong, your majesty?” 

The voice that came from behind you was comforting to you, but only sparked fear within he eyes of the king. Letting you go almost instantly, you stumbled backwards, your back bumping against the hard, firm surface of a panel of buttons. Before you could look up at the owner of a panel, a pair of hands wrapped themselves around your shoulders, grounding you and making you feel safe. Looking at the king again, you had noticed that his face had morphed from one of anger and hate to one of fear, only masked by a forced friendly smile. You smirked softly to yourself as you noticed the beads of sweat starting to form upon on his old, wrinkly brow. 

“O-Of course not, Lord Vader!” the king said, a waver in his voice, “Miss (F/N) and I were just having a, erm, little… chat.” 

“Is that so…” Lord Vader rumbled out. You opened your mouth to object, but you were quickly cut off by the old man before you. 

“Y-yes! Yes of course!” the king chuckled nervously in response. 

“Good,” rumbled Lord Vader, taking his hands off your shoulder and stepping closer to the king ever so slowly, his head tilting to the side, “It would be quite the shame if my prised mechanic were to be harmed.” 

Gulping silently and taking a few steps back, the king responded, “Yes… quite the shame indeed.” 

Clearing his throat, the king placed his hands on his hips, assuming a new look of attempted friendliness. 

“Well, I assume that we are all done here, yes? Excellent! Let us head back to my palace now, my Lord. There we can talk more about our entrance into the Empire.” 

Before Lord Vader could do anything in approval, the King pushed past both  you and the sith lord, the cape on his shoulders fluttering at his pace. As the troopers and officers began to follow suit, you began to mimic their actions, only to be stopped by a familiar hand upon your shoulder. 

“(F/N),” Lord Vader spoke to you, making the pair of you linger behind the group, “Are you… alright?” 

You didn’t know how to respond instantly.

Were you alright?

You frowned slightly as you thought about what your response should be. You didn’t know whether or not to tell him about your interaction with the king, or how you had seen him look at you and whisper with his guards. The feeling in your gut had not dissipated, and it plagued the back of your mind. You wondered if that was worth telling Lord Vader, however, since he already had so much to worry about. Was that just normal behavior? Lord Vader did do similar things with the officers on the Super Star Destroyer… 

“Yeah, I’m fine… thanks.” you decided to respond. Shooting up a small smile at his mask, you lifted up your own hand to rest upon his own briefly in order to cement your gratitude. 

He looked at you in silence for a long moment after you responded. You wondered if your answer had satisfied his curiosity. His pause said no, even the aura around him said no, but he did not poke the subject any further as he removed his hand from your shoulder. 

Deep down, you really wanted him to question you further. 

~~~

The walk back to the palace was excruciatingly long. 

You didn’t realize just how far you and the little posse had gone until you passed by literally everything that the king had taken you to see. By this point, the sun was starting to set, and your feet were starting to ache in your boots. You were somewhat grateful for this, however, since it meant that the second day on this planet was finally drawing to an end. 

Just one more day of having to deal with this shit, you thought to yourself, then I can go back to my station. Funny… I never thought I would miss that place. 

But there I can be by myself, and not worry about having to deal with creeps. 

There I can be with…

You shook your head to dislodge your thoughts. Now was not the time nor the place for you to indulge in such things. 

Staring to grow bored with your walk alongside Lord Vader, you began to let your eyes wander once again for some people-watching. You watched as the stormtroopers marched along with their guns held tightly to their chests, and how the officers walked with their heads held high. There was no doubt that this was an empirical entourage. 

Looking deeper into the crowd, you allowed your gaze to fall upon the king’s guardsmen. Their uniforms were somewhat silly to you, but you figured that you must be biased in that regard. Training your eyes on them a moment longer, you started to notice small things that the guards would do. 

Every so often, one guard would whisper to another, then another, then another. Sometimes, the guards would even steal glances of you and Lord Vader as you were fixated by his side. Your brow furrowed again at this, making your mind try and piece together what you were seeing. 

He must have sensed your shift in mood since he looked down at you without warning, his respirator as loud as ever. He took note of your facial expression before he spoke. 

“You seem on edge, (F/N).” Lord Vader said, making you look up at him a brief moment. 

“Yeah,” you said back quietly, your fingers twitching in a faint sense of nervousness, “It's just… Do you see them looking at us? It’s… weird.” 

Lord Vader looked at you a moment before responding. 

“Yes, I am aware.” 

“Should we… do something about it? Or is this normal?” 

“It happens periodically upon my visit to certain systems. Besides,” he continued, “Any attempt to conspire against the Empire shall result in failure.” 

You would have smiled at that if it weren’t for the pang of nervousness that still resided in your gut. Instead, you looked down at your feet and frowned to yourself, your lips stretching into a brief line. 

“If you say so, my Lord…” 

You desperately wanted to believe him. But, a pit of doubt and anxiety in your stomach kept you from doing as such fully. You hated the feeling. 

It’s just me wanting to get off this damn rock… you tried to tell yourself. 

You didn’t fully believe yourself, either. 

You didn’t know which feeling to hate more. 

~~~

Upon your arrival back to the palace, you were allowed 30 minutes to yourself to freshen-up before the day’s closing meeting. Relieved to get a moment to yourself, you headed up the stairs almost too quickly as you were relieved to go by Lord Vader. 

‘Do try not to be, how do you put it… ‘fashionably late,’ again this evening, (F/N)’ he said to you. 

‘No promises, my Lord.’ you had giggled back to him. 

Locking the door and kicking off your boots in your room, you sat down gingerly upon the freshly made bed, a wave of relief washing over you, so strong that it made you lie back upon the plush surface. Reaching your arms above your head, you arched your back as you let yourself have a big stretch, your muscles turning cold from the rush of blood-flow. Letting out a big breath, you closed your eyes as you let relaxation flow over you. You figured that since you needed energy to continue on with the night, now was as good a time as any to get in a quick cat-nap. 

Just as you had settled into your quick nap, a startling yet soft sound made you snap your eyes open, because of course something had to take your relaxation away from you. Laying there silently for a moment, you tried your best to hone in on the sound. Your ears prickling, you heard the noise again, only this time it made you sit up in your bed at attention. Finally able to decipher where the noise had been coming from, you snapped your head over to the knob on your door. 

Sure enough, it was twisting and turning at a feverish pace. 

Someone was trying to come in. 

Oh hell no. 

A sense of anger and frustration washing over you, you quickly marched over to the door, throwing it open as quickly as you could. 

“WHAT THE HELL-” 

Nothing. And no one. That’s what meat your gaze as you looked out in the hallway. 

Your face fell from one of anger to one of sad confusion as you stood there a moment, your hand sliding down the surface of the door. Sighing to yourself, you slowly went back into your room and closed the door behind you. You closed your eyes and pointed your head at the ceiling as you leaned your back against the door, allowing yourself to slide down into a kneeling position. 

Great, you thought, now I’m going crazy. 

I just want to go home. 

I hate it here. 

~~~

Deciding to humor Lord Vader a little, you had arrived at the night’s closing meeting on time. This had proven to be the correct choice, since you didn’t get any stares from anyone upon your arrival. The gut feeling from that morning still inside you, and this did little to appease it. However, it made you wonder if the king had given up on whatever he was trying to pull with you from earlier. 

But, of course, you had no way of knowing. 

The meeting was just as boring as all the other ones you had been to. Again, you were sit speechless by Lord Vader as he discussed the topics at hand with the king or one of his advisors. As he did so, you would try and find anything you could do to entertain yourself. This often involved counting tiles or trying to play back a holovid you had seen long ago back in your mind. 

This meeting, however, had a big surprise in store for you. 

“Miss (F/N),” you heard the king’s voice call out to you, sending a shock of get your head out of your ass down your spine, “You look dreadfully bored over there, my dear.” 

Looking over to the king, you hid your scowl as best you could as you tried to ease your sense of deja-vu. 

“Well, there isn’t much I have to add to the conversation, your majesty…” you responded back. You hadn’t meant to sound snarky, yet you couldn’t help yourself. 

The king laughed, an odd glint in his eye, “Yes, of course, my dear. I understand perfectly. Yet, I feel so bad just watching you sitting there. Here, how about we have my guards here escort you to the mechanical department for the time being? You can get a good look at the place whilst me and Lord Vader discuss, hm?” 

Your lips parted in confusion as you looked into the king’s blue eyes. What the hell? Did he suddenly feel bad for being such a dick to you? Or did he simply just feel bad? Or could he just not stand the sight of you anymore?

Deep down, you didn’t care. Enticed by an opportunity to leave the boring meeting behind, your mind was fuzzed from any thoughts of doubt that plagued your conscience. That offer did sound… appealing. 

However… 

“I… I would love to, your majesty, but…” you began to say, turning your gaze to fall upon Lord Vader for a moment, “I wouldn’t want to go against my Lord’s wishes if he required me to stay.” 

This was a silent plea, but you wouldn’t know it yet. 

“Oh, I’m sure that our dear Lord wouldn’t mind at all! Am I right, Lord Vader? Won’t you allow our dear Miss (F/N) to be relieved of our boring conversation?” the king asked, propping his boots on the table. 

You shot your gaze over to Lord Vader, unable to tell what emotion your eyes emanated to him. The sith looked right back at you, the sound of his respirator allowing him to inhale and exhale filling the room. 

Deep down, you wanted him to say no. 

Deep down,you prayed he would say no. 

He spoke after one of his trademark pauses. 

“I will allow it.” 

Why did that sting so bad? You should be relieved… 

“Excellent!” the king exclaimed, “Guards, please take Miss (F/N) to the mechanical department for the time being. I will comm you when she is to return.” 

The guards grasped their blasters tightly in response, standing at attention. Slowly but surely, you stood up from your chair and pushed it in. As you turned, mumbled out a quiet thanks, and began to walk past the dark lord you knew too well, you felt something large and leathery wrap around your fingers. Sure enough, when you looked down, he saw his hand wrapped there, making you look up at his mask. 

“(F/N),” he said slowly, just enough for you to hear, “be… careful.” 

You smiled and nodded at him like you didn’t need his caution.

Why did it feel so wrong? 

With Lord Vader eventually letting you out of his grasp, you walked over to your guard escorts and gave them a nod to signal to them that you were ready. Nodding in return, they turned on their heels and escorted you out of the room. 

You gave one last glance over your shoulder at Lord Vader before you exited. 

Deep down, you prayed that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

~~

The palace was eerily quiet with no one else but you and two guards walking the halls. Even though you had never been to a palace before, something inside you told you that this was wrong. 

You ignored it. 

The sound of footsteps echoing off of the walls made the goosebumps raise on your arms. It was so eerily quiet. And so eerily cold. You thought about striking up conversation with the guards, but you took them as not the type for conversation. 

Looking past all the doors that you saw on your walk, you took brief moments with each to see the contents inside all of them. You felt a lump in your throat as you saw a door with half-broken ships and blasters in the doorway. A feeling of unease washed over you. 

You ignored it. 

There must be some other way into that room. 

You held your biceps as the guards led you down a long hallway, only for it to end with two long, dull, menacing doors. A pit bore itself into your stomach. 

You ignored it. 

“Is this… it?” you asked. 

“Yes.” One of the guards responded. 

“But…” you said, “I-I saw some ships back there and-” 

You were swiftly and rudely cut off by an action you barely had any time to process. 

The guard had lifted his blaster, pointed to butt-end at you, and slammed it against the side of your forehead. 

Instantly, your vision blurred, your brain just barely able to process what was happening as your sight started to fade to black. 

You heard the doors to the room in front of you open. 

You felt your weak body being dragged inside. 

Your body weak, you felt yourself roll onto your side to face the fall without you even telling your body to do it. 

You were met with one final sight before everything went black. 

There was no mistaking it. 

You had seen it countless times before. 

From news briefings.

From posters. 

From propaganda. 

That brilliant crimson.

The symbol of the rebellion. 

~~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666 , @soullesstaco , @arsonistvoyager , @robin-obsessed , @glitter-rian , @captainrexstan , @easterncryptid , @deviatedwinter , @roseangel013bf , @danicalifxrnia , @dartheldur , @finest-trashbag​ , @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ , @elongatedmusk-rat​ , @shads121​ , @muffinbeliever​ , @sakuramadae​ , @padme-parker​ , @missmannequin​ 

[tomcriuse]

@foxwulder asked: im interested in your answer to this. what do you think mulder was like at college, socially. give me all of your headcanon on this.

yeah idk why but every time i sit down to write headcanons, i end up writing an essay that could be true like none of it is grounded in. Anything

his first year, he was incredibly involved in his studies—obsessive almost. there isn’t a part of fox mulder that doesn’t love learning anything that he can get his grubby little goblin hands on. he would keep to himself, shy. quiet.

he spent a lot of time on his own. his apartment was just outside of campus, so he would spend mornings walking to class not quite seeing everything around him. if it was especially cold, he would stop and get some coffee at his favourite café on the corner of the cobblestone street where the door creaked when you opened it and the bell rang a little too loudly and the coffee was just a little too hot. every time he went there, the barista would see him coming from down the road and she would have his cup made before he walked in. he would smile kindly—awkwardly charming, almost—at the her and his hands would shake a little as he was counting out the change and he would comment on the weather like it was unusual, but the weather in oxford changes once a year and the barista would just smile in amusement and say see you tomorrow green eyes, and mulder would blink and rub the back of his neck and say see you tomorrow coffee girl. their interactions were short and limited to the five minutes he could spare on his walk, but sometimes he would bring her book recommendations or random fun facts that he learned from his school reading. it was small ritual, but it was but it was a great comfort that made him feel less alone.

he met his first real friends in one of his beginner psychology classes. mulder always sat in the second row—he thought that the first row was for the people who wanted to show off too much, and he thought the back of the room was for the people that didn’t care at all. he considered himself right in the middle and showed it in where he sat. it seemed that a lot of people felt the same way, because the entire row was empty save for him and two guys and a girl. there as a sort of unofficial official seating chart camaraderie. the boy next to him wore the same three wrinkled button up shirts in various shades of green and layered them with old sweaters with holes in them. the other boy was always put together—no matter if he got two hours of sleep or twelve. he wore designer suits in every shade and pattern imaginable. he never wore a tie but always brought a baseball cap to class, worn and old and stained. the girl recorded every lecture on her cassette player and transcribed them every night. her notes were detailed and organized and covered in coffee rings from the late nights. they were a group of ragtag kids—relics from different cultures cobbled together to create a beautiful sculpture.

since the first day of class, the boy with messy clothes and a charming grin would always come to class with no pen and no paper, and disarm mulder with his shy eyes and say hey man, can I borrow some? and mulder knew there was now borrowing, he was never getting it back but he couldn’t say no. he bought notebooks for him and cases of pens but he wouldn’t take them and so mulder just kept them in his bag and took them with him wherever he went. originally their interactions never went past that. it became their own unspoken language—a habitual tradition that followed them in everything they did.

this also means that whenever there was group work, which was quite often in a behavioral class, the four would always be assigned together. at first they would just meet in the library or sit on the lawn with the sun peaking out from behind the clouds, focusing only on the task at hand. the three of his classmates would mess around and mulder would through in a witty comment here and a sharp retort there, but he never told much about himself. all they really knew about him was that he was the american boy with messy hair, pretty eyes, and an unusually lanky frame. he wasn’t cold, but he wasn’t inviting. he didn’t want to get attached and lose more that he loved.

the more they were forced together, the more that mulder started accepting that he deserved happiness—that he didn’t have to push others away. that he deserved to be loved. they moved from libraries to his favourite café and from the lawn to the floor in someones apartment. they moved from homework to movies and witty anecdotes to stories. it was the first time that he had ever told anyone what happened to sam. they didn’t laugh, they didn’t ridicule. they told him that if anyone could bring her back it would be him.

every friday night, they would go to the indian food restaurant around the corner from his apartment and they would order half of the menu. they would laugh and argue about movies and psychoanalyse each other. they would be a little too loud and they would stay a little too long after closing and they would tip a little too much to make up for it, but they felt more at home in that restaurant than they ever did with their parents.

coming from old money in new england, the way that mulder was raised to appreciate people was through gifts. originally, he would buy sweaters new shoelaces or new wheels for his skateboard. he would buy mr perfect the ugliest ties he could find. he would buy the curly haired girl blank cassette tapes and hand-crafted mugs. but somewhere along the way, he wanted to give a part of himself to them to remember him by. he would hang out at the skatepark with sweaters at two in the morning. he would play soccer with mr perfect even though, if he had any choice, he would rather die than pick soccer over baseball.

it would be the small things. the way the curly haired girl would throw her straw wrappers at mulder when he told a bad joke. the way that sweaters threw his arm around his shoulder and leaned in like he was going to tell him the world’s greatest secret—the key to the universe. the way mr perfect would invite him to museum parties that his family forced him to go to, and the way that they would sneak off to the roof to watch the stars. listening to music as they counted the constellations. reading psychology books aloud. coming up with stupid conspiracies and trying to convince the other person that it was true. having paper airplane races. going to france for a weekend and trying every coffee place they could. trying recipes from thrift-store cookbooks that they ruin and end up ordering takeout. someone finding a small sunflower and giving it to him and him saying, we both know exactly what is wrong here. road trips to the countryside where there was a ufo sighting.

his greatest friendships in college were built on admiration and annoyance and fate and love.

at some point, people started to notice mulder. maybe it was his wild hair or his bright smile or his ringing laughter. maybe it was the way that he always kept his word or was always there for you if you needed to talk. everyone seemed to know him. he would say hello in passing to kids on campus and help you out in the library if you needed. but his focus was always on his friends—his family. outside of them, he had a couple friends maybe—acquaintances. people he would sit next to in other classes, someone doing peer review. fleeting.

it wasn’t that he avoided making other friendships, but it was that the bond between the four of them ran deep. they knew everything about each other—how crispy they liked the crust on their bread, how dark or light they like their coffee, whether or not they looped the end when they wrote a y, the way their eyes light up when they think of a comeback, the twitch of their eyebrows when they hear something that annoys them. it was nothing that you could learn from reading a book, but things only resulting from years of intensive study and firsthand experience. for every connection in their circle, one was a primary source and the other was a historian pouring over ever wrinkle and stain on the page.

however, when he met phoebe, things started going downhill. she would monopolize his time and steal him away from his family. she drove a wedge between them. it was his first real taste of betrayal—not his friends walking out on him, but someone who he loved driving them away. there was no more of the pure happiness that he felt with them. it felt wrong to take her to the places that they went together. he couldn’t eat indian food. he hated france. he bought everything new, nothing used.

it was like he was back to square one, almost: keeping to himself, shy. quiet.

[loveisbraveandwild]

Hi! This is my “how i met taylor swift” story! i’ll never be able to express how much the privilege of being invited by taylor herself into her home to hear the lover album early, eat her rice krispy treats, and tell her i’m proud of her means to me, but here’s my attempt at least telling the story. it’s a long story so if you hate reading click here to watch the video i made about it!

At 5:30pm on July 21st, I was sitting in my bed on tumblr and a message pops up on my screen that says “Taylor Nation CONFIDENTIAL MESSAGE.” Me, not trusting anyone on this site, clicked it thinking it was fake there’s no frickin way i got the dm. I read the url and the message about four times until i finally sat up out of my bed and immediately text sam, my best friend in the whole world. she texts me back in all caps, as a real friend does, and then she facetimes me. I missed what she first said but i will never forget her saying “i got mine on twitter.” After talking to her on the phone, i finally reply to tn.

monday and tuesday go by and nothing happens. on wednesday at 2:54pm I text sam “tn forgot about us” then at 2:57 my long live ringtone started blaring and i pick up and this guy is like “is this grace ----” and im like yes and he says “this is x with taylor nation.” ive never jumped up and screeched louder in my life. he tells me our conversation is confidential, confirms where i’m from, and then asks me if i can go to rhode island. here’s my reaction to my phone call. 

on friday, whilst in target, having saved taylor nation’s number in my phone, i get another phone call from them. they tell me the original location has been leaked and ask me if i can get to nashville. i’ll never be able to emphasize how grateful and privileged i feel to not only be able to have gone to sessions but to be able to say yes without needing to confirm anything with my parents and to be able to change my plans, after having booked a flight to RI (don’t worry i got a full refund!)

the following saturday i woke up at 3::30am to catch a flight to nashville. sam and my flight got in 4 minutes apart from each other. the rest of the day is a story for another time but basically i freaked out because i met about 2 dozen other swifties that i’ve been friends with for a long time. i had lunch and dinner with them, we went to the taylor swift education center, and we hung out in the hotel together. the day ended with me meeting emma, someone who i hardly interacted with but admired so much because of her blog.  

sunday morning we woke up and freaked out and spent the morning trying to stomach food and getting ready. then we went to the hotel and got to the meet up spot at 3:15ish. there were so many people i knew there and it was the craziest experience ever. at 4 a woman from tn comes up and gets us and steals our phones, etc. an hour later they bring us out to the buses and that’s when i started to get really, really overwhelmed and start crying. i would have fallen to my knees if sam hadn’t caught me.

i’m the last person off the second bus and we round the corner and once again, i start crying. fast forward and we’re in line for food (which i did not eat) and i see these adorable little labels for the food that look like taylor’s handwriting, once again, sobbing. i turn to sam and say “she loves us so much.” even if she didn’t write those cards, someone took the time to sit down and hand write them and even the smallest act went the longest way for me. 

we get in line to enter the room and about 30 minutes later they open the doors. five minutes later she jumped out and says “hey guys!” she looked the exact same as she does on my computer screen, fake. her hair was perfect, she was tall (not as tall as i imagined though), smiling, beautiful, gorgeous, all the good things. she then tells us not to share anything that happens in this room and when taylor looks you in the eye and tells you to do something you do it. 

half way through we take a little break and sam and i are in line for the bathroom when i see people coming back in the session room i immediately tell sam to sit down and we do, not moving an inch. front. row. seats. two feet away from her chair is probably an overstatement. i don’t know how it happened but we were two frickin feet away from where she was sitting. she comes back and plays the rest of the album. 

then they take the minors first and then the ~adults alphabetically. my last name starts with a B but i still didn’t meet her until about 1:30am on august 5th. when they open the door and call me in i see her reflection and she’s like dancing? i look to my laugh and there she is, im crying writing this, like real tears. 

i want to keep most of our conversation private but she immediately said “Hi Gracie!” when i talked in. i heard stories than when you hug taylor swift she never lets go first, this is indeed true. i told her i loved her in her ear while we were hugging and she said it back. then she told me she knew a selfie i had posted but she had never liked and i freaked out. i told her i’m studying political science and gender studies and i want to run for office one day and she was so excited and proud of me. i thanked her for my first notice when she put me on her story and told her why my favorite taylor song is my favorite taylor song. we talked a little bit about the album and she told me she was proud of me twice and i told her i was proud of her twice. we took our picture and she let me make sure i liked it and the only thing i remember is seeing my smile and being like “thats it” because i looked had never smiled so big. 

the next day taylor posted a picture wearing the bracelet i gave her when told her i was bi and thanked her for her allyship and i just about passed out. i spent the day in nashville and got to open my picture at!!! the!! bluebird!! cafe!!! click here for some soft video content of it! 

this entire experience was a whirlwind from start to finish and i wouldnt change a second of it. taylor, on the off chance that you see this, and on the bigger off chance that you read this, thank you. being able to look you in the eyes and tell you how proud i am of you is something i’ve dreamt about since i was about ten years old. i never thought i would be able to do it. thank you for inviting me into one of your most intimate spaces, entrusting me with your art, and ranting about politics and gender studies with me. thank you for baking for me and for introducing me to my best friends. i wouldnt be nearly as confident, stable, happy, or supported without you and the people you’ve brought into my life. i love you so much! 

[1dffexchange]

Uncomfortable Silences

To: Vicki @angstarella​

From: Liv @midnightcities​

Summary: It’s been 927 days since Rowie messily ended her two year relationship with Harry. 659 days since Harry Styles bared his soul and shared it for the world to hear in the form of a best-selling debut album. 173 days since his number had flashed across the screen of her phone. But finally, Rowie was starting to feel her sense of normalcy return.

It was any other Saturday morning. A half eaten piece of Marmite toast lay forgotten on the kitchen counter along with the dregs of my morning coffee. There was a haphazard pile of trousers at the foot of my bed that I had created when searching for my favourite black pair. My 10 minute snooze turned into almost 25 minutes and I was now on a time crunch to pull myself together for my Saturday shift. Despite promising myself that I would go to bed at an acceptable hour last night, I fell prey to my best friend’s masterful coercing and stayed out far longer than I originally intended. You think by now I would know better.

I was in my bathroom, scraping my hair back into a bun, when I heard the buzz of my phone. Jules, the aforementioned best friend I’m sure, checking in to either complain about her killer headache or to help fill in her hazy memory. This had become a bit of a ritual for us.

One last glance in the mirror and I deemed myself suitable enough to face the horde of Saturday shoppers. I flicked the bathroom light off and grabbed my phone that I had earlier tossed onto my unmade bed. The phone screen lit up as I brought it to eye level. I immediately dropped the phone back onto the bed when I saw the notification:

+44 7106 555555 iMessage

I had finally deleted that number almost a year ago; that’s the best way to move on according to all the break-up articles and books I have pored over the past 2 and a bit years. They don’t tell you how to delete a number from your memory though. I haven’t seen it grace my phone screen in quite some time, the longest stint yet actually. And still, it made my heart stutter erratically and my palms clammy.

What does he want now? Has something happened? Work. I haven’t seen much of him online lately. Who was that last girl he was linked to again? Work. Is this going to be some half-assed, drunk apology again? I need to go to work.

I broke myself out of my impending trainwreck of thoughts, forcing myself to throw all my effort into moving my body. I snatched up my bag and grabbed my phone once again. My eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see that damn number as I shoved it to the depths of my bag. Out of sight out of mind, right?

****

Waterstones was a staple part of my childhood London visits, so landing a job here in my first year of studying was a dream. I was lucky enough to take up residence at the Gower Street store. It always was my favourite, with its twisting shelves and hidden nooks, and it’s a bonus that it’s only a 5 minute walk from main campus for those days when I have class. As a child I always thought this would be the perfect place to play a game of hide-and-seek. And on days like today where I would rather do anything than enthusiastically suggest a middle-aged woman some egregious romance novel, the labyrinth nature of the store was appreciated.

I was tucked away on the third floor, shelving some second-hand Philosophy books. I studied each title intently, skimmed each books synopsis, and threw all my mental energy into deciphering what the philosophical knowledge each book was actually trying to impart. The upper levels of the store are the perfect study sanctuary; I have spent many hours holed up in here writing last minute essays. But today the comfortable silence was not good for my current mental state.

I had thrown my bag into the designated employee locker out the back, my phone remaining ignored in the depths. I’m sure I felt it vibrate again when I was on the tube but it stayed unopened and unchecked. I can’t do this again, I really can’t put myself through… that again.

“Um… Excuse me…” A quiet voice caught me off guard.

I turned, book still in hand, to see three girls standing awkwardly near the W-Z section of Social Sciences. They looked a little young to be browsing up here, but I reserved my judgements. “Yes, how may I help you today?” I flashed my customer service smile.

The girl in the middle opened her mouth before snapping it shut again. The one on the left nudged her, giving her a look of slight impatience. Odd.

“Are… are you…” She attempted again.

Now the one on the right shook her head and pushed herself forward. “Are you Rowena Porter?”

I felt my heart begin to stutter, my stomach clench. “Excuse me?”

“Rowie…” the girl in the middle whispered, “she likes to be called Rowie.”

“Whatever,” she shrugged, “are you Rowie Porter?”

“I’m sorry,” my cheeks felt hot and I could feel my hands starting to shake, “but I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”

The girl on the right took a couple steps toward me, clearly she was the most confident of the three. “Harry Styles has been seen coming here a lot lately. And then I remembered reading on Twitter that you work here. Has he been visiting you? Are you back together?”

My breath hitched. Harry was here? When? Why? Was it to see me? Surely out of all the Waterstones in London he wouldn’t choose this one for his bookish needs. It can’t be a mere coincidence.

The three girls stared at me expectantly, as if I was about to really about to reveal some intimate, albeit non-existent, love-life details. I placed the book in my hand on the shelf adjacent to me and took a steading breath. “I’m sorry girls, but Rowena quit working here a while back. I’m afraid I can’t help you any more than that.”

“Oh, so you just happen to look like her?” The girl challenged.

“Coincidence.”

“But--”

“Look,” my tone had become considerably more clipped, “if you have any book related questions I am happy to help you out. Otherwise I need to continue on with my job.” I picked up the half-empty box of Philosophy books that still needed unpacking and headed down the aisle and away from the girls. I prayed that they weren’t following me. It took every ounce of my self-control to not completely blow up at them and tell them, in the nicest way possible, to sod off. But now I was throwing all my focus into not breaking down in the middle of the Greek and Roman Classics section.

I pounded down the three flights of stairs, determined to hold myself together to at least the back storage area. My head was swimming, like I had just thrown back five consecutive shots of Jäger, and my face prickling with sweat.

Just as I was about the push past the registers, my unstable hands got the better of me and I dropped the box, the books tumbling out. “Shit.” I scrambled onto my knees to pile the books back up but tears began to blur my vision and I could feel the stares of customers. Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

“Rowie, are you okay?”

A pair of hands shot out and began haphazardly throwing the books back into the box. The hands belonged to Will, one of my co-workers and probably one of the only people I considered an actual friend on staff. I sat back, letting him collect the last few books, and willed my hands to stop trembling and for my tears to not spill over. Will stood and lifted the box up and behind the counter before offering me his hand. I hoped he couldn’t feel the stickiness of perspiration on my palms. “Alright?”

I shook my head. “I need to go.”

His eyebrows furrowed in obvious concern. “Do you want me to call someone? You look shaken up… What happened?”

Again, I shook my head. “Who’s on today?”

“Mara.” One small win, she was the kindest of all the store managers. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind my early departure.

“Can you please just tell her I had a family emergency or something. I really need to get out of here.” I pushed past Will, past the registers, and burst through the back storage area doors.

“Is this because of Harry?” I hadn’t realised Will had followed me.

I whirled back around meeting his worried gaze. “What?”

“He was here... A few days ago.” He spoke cautiously, he could clearly tell I was on the verge of breaking. “He asked for you.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Rowie, why would I? Look at the state of you right now, I wasn’t about to do that to you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to 10, and forced myself to take some calming breaths. Anything to stop the rising panic. “You did the right thing,” I spoke finally. I could see Will let out a small breath in relief. “I still need to deal with this though, please tell Mara for me.”

“Row--”

“No,” I cut him off before he could go on his usual tirade of why my ex is not worth my time, something that I normally do appreciate. “Just… Let me deal with this. I’ll talk to you later.”

Will pursed his lips, I could tell that he was struggling to keep his opinions quiet. He merely turned and walked back out to the store front. I knew he wasn’t happy, but that was something I needed to push aside for now.

I turned and made my way to the staff locker and retrieved my bag. Time to face the music. I grabbed my phone. The screen lit as I brought it to view. Four messages. All from that same number. My thumb hovered over the notification, my stomach churning at the thought of what could be contained in those four messages. I unlocked my phone.

+44 7106 555555

(7:42 am): Rowie, I know you don’t want to hear from me but can you please give me a call. Harry.

(8:09 am): Please Row

(8:47 am): im desperate

(8:48 am): i need you.

I stared at the four little blue bubbles, unable to process them. A weird sense of calm had blanketed me. My previously hammering heart had slowed, my hands were still, my breath even. Almost robotically, I dropped my phone back into my bag and made a beeline straight out of Waterstones and into the chaos of Gower Street.

im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you.

The words flashed over and over in my mind with my every footfall. My thoughts wandered to every possible scenario as to what he could need. A jostle from a stranger awoke me from my abstraction and I realised I was already on the Euston Square platform. A train had just pulled up, my train I confirmed when I glanced over at the schedule. I quickly slipped on just as the doors closed and found a free seat. I sat rigidly, the sway of the carriage slowly pulling me back into my spiralling thoughts.

****

It felt like time was moving funny. My usual 25 minute journey felt like it was over in less than 5. The encounter with those girls this morning felt like it happened hours ago when it has barely been over an hour. That weird sense of calm I felt earlier was ebbing away and I could feel the panic begin to nestle it’s way back in. And the crowded train platform wasn’t helping me to keep my impending panic attack at bay. I needed a voice of reason, someone to help guide me through. I needed Jules.

I moved with the commuters but reached into my bag for my phone, praying she would be awake. Just as I unlocked my phone though, it began vibrating. Jules’ name appeared on the screen; what are the chances. I answered immediately.

“Oh, Rowie. Thank god,” Jules’ breathless voice greeted me, “I thought you wouldn’t pick up because of work.”

“Yeah, I was there but I left. I was just about to ring you actually. Is everything alright with you?” I tapped my Oyster card against the scanner, keen to get away from the claustrophobic nature of the London Underground.

“Wait, where are you now?”

“Just got off the tube, heading home. There was… An incident at work.” I finally stepped out on the street, the fresh air felt good.

“Home?! Oh god. Listen Rowie, I’m so sorry but I didn’t know what to do.”

Jules sounded truly panicked now, enough for me to stop my brisk walking pace and throw all my attention into the call. “What do you mean you didn’t know what to do? What is going on?”

“It’s-- It’s Harry.”

My stomach dropped, for the umpteenth time today. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know! He rang me, I don’t even know how he has my number. He was asking for you, but he didn’t sound right. He had been to your flat, your old one though, didn’t even know you had moved.” Of course he doesn’t, he wouldn’t know anything that has happened to me in the past two years. “I wasn’t sure if it was an emergency, I didn’t know how to help.”

“It’s okay, you did the right thing by talking to him.”

“No, Rowie I-- Oh, I told him where you live now. Row, I think he’s waiting for you there.”

****

The last time I counted, it had been 643 days since I had seen Harry in person. That’s just over two years. And it has essentially taken me up until now to feel that sense of normalcy return which I craved back when I first ended our relationship. But seeing him sat on my flat’s front step, even from a distance, made me realise that no amount of time is going to stop that visceral, all-consuming feeling he has always given me.

He was hunched over, a beanie pulled down tight over his curls. It wasn’t even cold out yet, but I assume he’s wearing it to stay somewhat hidden. He fiddled with his phone and then tucked it away, tugged at the sleeves of the black sweater he was wearing, clasped and unclasped his hands. I could tell he was nervous. And judging from the twitches of my hands, so was I.

I crossed the street and approached him cautiously. He was so consumed with his thoughts he didn’t even hear me approach. I cleared my throat, crossing my arms in a way to steel myself.

Harry’s head jerked up, recognition immediately flooding his muted green eyes. “Rowie…” He stood. I forgot how tall he was.

“Hello, Harry.” I spoke quietly. I was surprised my tone hid my tumbling emotions so well.

“It’s…” he exhaled, “it’s so good to see you.”

I rolled my lips and nodded slowly, unsure of what to say.

“Can I come up?”

No, no, no, no. My flat was one of my only Harry-free zones. No memories were attached. Everything had been removed that reminded me of him. Seeing him up there now would bring up a slew of problems. “I don’t think that would be best,” I spoke carefully. I was still trying to gauge where he was at mentally right now; he seemed off.

“You know I wouldn’t normally insist but I think it would be best. If someone spots me here you’re gonna be dealing with… Well you know the routine.”

He was right. And especially after what happened this morning, the last thing I need is more obsessive fans waiting outside my flat. “Fair enough.”

I unfolded my arms and grabbed my keys from my bag. Harry followed me up the few steps and watched as I unlocked the door. My hands visibly shook as I twisted the key. I know he noticed but he said nothing. In silence, we walked up the four flights of stairs and down the hall to flat 408. I let us in, promptly locking the door behind us.

My current flat was quite different from the one Harry had known. Paying my way through a Masters degree and some other unexpected financial problems at home had forced me to downsize, coupled with the fact that I was desperate to leave those walls which were filled to the brim with memories of us.

I watched as Harry’s eyes scanned the space - the cramped kitchen with the leaky tap, the speckled counter that doubled as a dining table, the IKEA sofa I had picked up on sale last winter. I knew my living space was a stark contrast to what Harry was likely used to and I couldn’t take his scrutinising gaze any longer. I knew my somewhat cool exterior was beginning to crack, the unwanted feelings of anxiety pushing to burst through and consume me. I needed some relief.

I left Harry standing awkwardly near the doorway and stepped into the kitchen. Dumping my bag on the counter, I began searching through the drawers for what I knew I needed. I was beginning to feel light-headed again, my whole body falling prey to the shakes. Tucked snuggly next to a half-used pack of Panadol and some Strepsils was the bottle I was searching for. The safety cap proved too difficult for my unsteady fingers though. I let out a small groan of frustration.

“You need a hand?” Harry carefully took the bottle from my hands, expertly twisting the top off. He handed it back, but not before peeking at the label, something I wish he didn’t do. “Alprazolam? Isn’t that--”

“Xanax, yes.” I tossed back two pills dry, desperate for their calming effect.

“Oh. Uh, you should be careful with those. They can be addictive and--”

“Yes, I know that Harry,” I snapped. “Not that it’s any of your business but they’ve been prescribed and I only take them when the situation calls for it.”

My abrupt tone took Harry by surprise, judging from the way he shifted away from me. I could see he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to say. I felt a twinge of guilt at my unwarranted outburst.

“It helps with my panic attacks,” I said quietly after a few moments. “I haven’t had a full blown attack in a while though. I’m good at knowing the signs now. Shaky hands, erratic heart rate, feeling faint.”

He nodded slowly. “I didn’t know… How long have you been dealing with them?”

I sighed heavily. I knew Harry wasn’t going to like my answer. “I had my first one in 2015. They were at their worst in 2016 though. That’s when I got medical help.”

“2015… Wait…” I watched as Harry connected the dots. I moved out of the kitchen and towards the sofa, as if putting some distance between us would soften the blow of seeing his reaction. “That’s when we were together. You were having panic attacks and didn’t even tell me?!”

“They weren’t a big deal, I didn’t want to worry you.”

Harry ripped his beanie off and slammed it down on the kitchen counter. I jumped, both at the sound and Harry’s sudden, extreme mood change. “God, Rowie,” he spat bitterly, “I was your fucking boyfriend. I was supposed to worry about you. To help you!”

“It was almost 4 years ago Harry—“

“So?!” He cut me off. “I had some right to know what you were dealing with!”

I could feel my face heating up, not due to panic but because of anger this time. “What I was dealing with? What I was dealing with? You wouldn’t have been able to understand Harry.”

“Try me.”

“You were born for this life Harry, an entertainer at heart able to bounce through life without worrying about what millions of people around the world think of you. But not me. Seeing my name, my personal life, splashed across social media and in news articles. People commenting about me, online and in person. People saying I don’t deserve you. I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Harry’s hands were clenched on the counter, frustration radiating off him. “For two years I have sat and analysed every facet of our relationship, wandering what I did wrong. Repeated that day you ended everything over and over. I wrote a whole fucking album for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” I interjected harshly.

“And if you had just told me these things at the time I could’ve helped you through it. Together, like a couple is supposed to!”

I shook my head. “I did what had to be done. It was the right thing for us. And for you.”

“No, it wasn’t. You broke my heart, Rowena.” His voice broke and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I was rendered speechless. My full name hung in the air between us, an uncomfortable silence smothering the room. It seems silly to be caught off guard by my own name, but I’ve never heard him say it. I’ve always been Rowie, his Rowie.

As we both stood there, kitchen counter separating us, staring but remaining unmoving, I felt as though I was truly seeing Harry for the first time today. With the beanie off I could see his hair looked unusually unkempt, his curls limp as though they needed a good wash. His skin had broken out, which I knew only happened when he was stressed, and the dark circles under his eyes confirmed that suspicion. His hands which were always adorned with an assortment of rings were bare. Even his clothes looked disheveled. This wasn’t the Harry I knew standing before me.

“Harry…” I said softly, breaking the silence, ��what’s really going on? Why did you need to see me?”

I watched as he hunched over the counter, resting his head in his hands. His fingers twined into his hair, gripping at the root. As he ran his hands through the flat curls, he brought his gaze up to meet mine. His eyes had filled with tears and I felt that immediate pang in my heart.

Without inhibition, I joined Harry back in the kitchen and gathered him up in my arms, bringing his head down to the crook of my neck. As I stroked the nape of his neck, I felt his arms twist around my waist and pull me tight. I knew he wasn’t crying, but I could feel every ounce of emotion through his embrace. And suddenly I felt at peace, and not because of the meds. I hated that it felt so right to be here in this moment, that the one thing that could stabilise me was the thing I drove away years ago.

Harry loosened his grip and I took it as a sign to pull away slightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. “For what? I’m the one who should be apologising for being shitty and leaving without a proper explanation.”

“I should’ve seen it, the struggles you were having. You’re right, this life can be hard. And it was silly of me to just assume that you were coping with it fine. You say that I don’t worry about what people think of me, I don’t. But that’s after years of me being so caught up in it. I had to learn to ignore and move past the crap.”

“I should have told you though…” I said softly.

He drew his hands away from my waist, instead clasping my own hands in his and bringing them up to his chin. I felt the softest graze of his lips as he stared down at me, my heart skittered ever so slightly. “I really miss you, Row. Everyday.”

I nodded, unsure if I could trust myself to string together a coherent sentence.

He sighed heavily, dropping my hands and taking a step back to lean against my oven. I immediately missed the contact. “In 47 days I’m supposed to be announcing my upcoming album. Which means I have about 42 days to get the tracks laid. The first instance of them anyways.” I watched as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “And I am so fucking lost.”

I still stood quietly, unsure of what I could really say. Words of encouragement from me right now would surely feel superficial to him.

“God, last time I struggled to cut down the track list. I had such a backlog of material, it was mental.”

I knew I had some role to play with that. Breaking up with someone just as they were about to embark on launching a solo career would result in an abundance of inspiration.

“And this time I have nothing…” he continued on. “Everything I write is utter shite, and the pressure from the label isn’t helping.”

“Push back the announcement then,” I finally spoke.

He laughed, without humor though. “If only it was that easy Rowie. You remember what it was like when I was in the band, the label asking for a new record every bloody year. That was considered feasible as there were five of us. Now according to them, going beyond a 2 year break between records is ‘not recommended’.”

I snorted, and Harry looked at me questioningly. “Seriously? That’s crap. How many artists have been MIA for years and still come back with another best-selling album. Harry, you’re underestimating your talents a little I think. This isn’t like your early years of One Direction where you guys had to pump out content in order to stay relevant. You’ve put in the hard yards and made your mark, you are here to stay.”

A flicker of a smile appeared on his lips. It gave me the confidence to continue on.

“You could literally release an album that consisted primarily of whale and dolphin calls and it would number one on release day.”

That got a laugh out of him. “Not sure if the label would like that though.”

I approached him slowly. “Well, I would love it. In fact, I’ve already got it pre-ordered on iTunes and saved on my Spotify.” I stood toe to toe with Harry, my fingers reaching out to the hem of his sweater. It was taking all of my self-restraint to not stretch up and trace his jawline, to comb back his hair with my fingers.

Instead, Harry seized the opportunity. Cautiously, he placed his hand to the side of my face. I melted into his touch. His lips parted ever so slightly before rolling them together, his telltale sign that he wanted to kiss me but was unsure.

“It’s okay,” I barely whispered out. I rolled up onto my toes, bringing my arms around his neck before pressing my lips against his. It felt as though no time had passed; we were in sync immediately, our mouths moving with familiarity. I raked my nails up through his hair and he mirrored by running his down my sides.

But as sudden as we had fallen back into routine, Harry pulled away. I couldn’t help a small sound of detest escape my mouth. “Shit,” he mumbled. He unlatched my arms from around his neck and pressed them back into my chest. “I shouldn’t… I know this isn’t what you want.” He sidestepped me and moved as far away from me as possible, which was only a few meters as that’s all my flat would allow.

“Who are you to say what I do and don’t want?” I challenged.

“You just told me the enormous toll our relationship had on you mentally. And I didn’t come here to try and win you back.”

I suddenly felt like I had been used. “So, what? You have no inspiration to write some songs so you come and see me, dredge up old problems, and then run off to the studio? Is that all I am to you now? A muse of emotional trauma?”

His eyes widened. “Jesus Rowie, of course not! I needed to see you because I knew you would be a voice of reason for me. Every person that I have spoken to about this album just doesn't get it. They’re all too… I don’t know. Too close to the project? They all just think I have a bit of writer’s block. My mum told me to clear my head by taking a walk in a bloody forest or something!”

I leant back, taking up the same position against my oven that Harry held minutes earlier. “How can my opinion even mean anything? I don’t know what’s gone on with you for the past 2 and a bit years.”

“And yet, I’ve felt more at ease here with you this past hour than I have for the past 6 months.”

“What, my 3 sentences of encouragement have instantly filled you with the creative juices you’ve been craving?”

“I wish,” Harry chuckled. “But your sense of assurance helps.”

I was about to respond when the buzz of a phone interrupted me. It sounded muffled, so I knew it was coming from my bag which lay forgotten at the end of the counter. It was most likely Jules, checking in to see if I’m alright.

“That’s probably a sign that I should go.” He collected his beanie that he had thrown down earlier and shoved it back on his head, paying no attention to the way it smushed some curls flat against his forehead. “Again, I’m sorry to barge in on you like this. I appreciate that you gave me the chance to talk though.” He jerked forward, unsure if we should hug goodbye or if he should just leave. I made the decision easier for him by crossing the kitchen and wrapping my arms around his waist. Pressing my ear to his chest I could hear the steady thump of his heart, a sound that I have fallen asleep to countless times. I felt Harry press his lips to the top of my head. This hug felt different, like a proper goodbye hug. Not ‘see you later’, but goodbye.

We pulled apart, locking eyes for one last time. “Good luck with everything,” I murmured.

“I’ll let you know when the Harry Styles featuring Whale and Dolphin album will be dropping.”

I let out a shaky laugh before moving around him to unlock the door. He stepped out, gave me one last smile, and turned to walk down the hall. I watched him walk until he disappeared from view, he didn’t turn back once.

That goodbye felt like it was the final closure we both needed, that now we could finally move on with our lives and be relatively happy. Maybe now I could hear and see his name and not feel a clench in my stomach. Or have those cluey fans find me and not dissolve into a puddle of panic.

But despite all these prospects, I knew it wasn’t the ending I wanted. Or the ending I really needed. My feet moved without warrant. I picked up speed, pounded down the stairs almost tripping over. I saw him, he had just stepped out of the building and down the steps. I burst through the door and he spun around, eyes wide with surprise.

“Stay.” I puffed out.

He blinked. Once, twice. “What?”

“I’m asking you to stay,” I descended the front steps and joined Harry on the footpath. “I just did the most cliché, rom-com thing and chased after you to ask you to stay. I mean, all that is missing right now is some rain and we would have the perfect scene.”

He laughed.

“Please, I’m serious.”

“Rowie, after what you said we can’t get back together. We--”

“After what I said we should be getting back together.”

Harry looked at me puzzled.

“I’m not going to be a prat now and try to shoulder all the pressure. I was stupid to not trust that you could help me in the first place. And I’ve gotten better at managing the anxiety.”

He was quiet for a while, staring down at me. I was desperate for something, even just a graze of his hand for reassurance. I was about to revoke the offer, feeling that maybe I had misread the situation, but he finally responded. “Are you sure? I don’t want you… I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“So sure that I ran down four flights of stairs and almost broke a leg for you.”

We both grinned before Harry pulled me in for a kiss. It was short and sweet but felt like home all the same.

“Let’s go up.” I said once we had broken apart.

“Oh… Uh... Actually,” Harry stammered. Oh god, have I suddenly been to forward or something? “I really need to swing by the studio. My phone has basically been in airplane mode all day and I was supposed to be there for a session at 10 am. I’ve been off the grid without even telling anyone.” He bit his lip, obviously unsure of how I would react.

“Go,” I said with a smile. Sure, the timing was crappy but I knew he would be back.

“I’ll be back,” he said as though he had just read my mind. “I’ll bring dinner tonight. Some thai food? Panang curry with fried rice?”

I smiled. He remembered my order. “Don’t forget--”

“Extra green beans in the curry.” He placed his hand on my cheek, bending down slightly to press a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, he turned and began walking up the street, his phone pressed to his ear. No doubt he was finally responding to some very concerned people on his whereabouts. I watched him until turned the corner at the end of the block. I continued to stand there on the footpath outside my flat feeling calm, finally feeling at peace.

It almost seemed silly that this morning Harry Styles was the catalyst for a tumultuous amount of negative emotion, and yet my Harry was the one that was able to calm the storm and ground me.

I suppose I should thank him for that. I’ll do it when he comes home.

[joohoneyhoe]

Push and Pull| Six

[song inspiration: Got7 - Like Oh]

|Chapter One| |Chapter Two| |Chapter Three| |Chapter Four| |Chapter Five| |Chapter Six| |Chapter Seven|

pairing: Jimin x oc x Jaebum genre: angst, fluff, smut, fingering, oral, dirty talk word count: 3.9k a/n: Isolde spent three years with Jimin after meeting him by chance in a dance studio. He was perfect and he loved her, she thought he was the one she’d spend the rest of her life with. That all crumbles when he decides he wants to please his parents and leave her so he can be with someone like him. Isolde is plummeted into turmoil and leaves her job as a choreographer to move back home to the states. A mutual friend named Im Jaebum reaches out to console her, lift her back up from her fragile state. It’s a push and pull tug between what she thought she had and what she could have.

{five months later}

I held my phone to my ear, tears pouring from my eyes, the dial ringing over and over. I hadn’t talked to Jaebum in over forty-eight hours and he never even gave me an explanation why. So finally today, I had decided to check and see if they had a show I didn’t know about. I went on to some big Korean news page, just seeing what was going on in the country I missed so much and what Got7 was up to this last few days. I didn’t even make it past the home page and the first thing that popped up, was Jimin and his now fiancé. 

Fiancé. 

They were engaged. We’d been separated for less than nine months and they were already engaged. I had thought I was doing better now, I rarely even thought about Jimin. I was going out with old friends again, having fun, doing things I had missed out on when I was gone. 

Jaebum stayed consistent in my life, our communication only increasing over time. I felt like, maybe, there could be something there, but I wasn’t sure what. Then, two days ago, he just went completely silent and I heard nothing. I was trying not to panic about it, hoping he was just out of town or something. But, out of anxiousness and curiosity about what was going on in the world I was no longer apart of, I found out about Jimin. 

The phone finally went to Jaebum’s voicemail and I threw it down onto my new couch in frustration. It was ten at night here, so it was two there and I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. After I called Jaebum two or three times, I had tried Jackson, Suran and even Jinyoung. I couldn’t reach any of them. I felt a panic attack beginning to well up in my chest, my breathing becoming erratic. I couldn’t tell if it was because of Jimin or because I couldn’t reach Jaebum for the second day in a row, and all I wanted was to hear his voice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I shouted as I paced the apartment I now called home. Bane, the black Maine Coon I had adopted from a local shelter, followed behind me as I moved. “Fuck, I don’t know how to stop this.” I cried, my chest getting tighter every second. 

My phone went off on the couch and I quickly grabbed it, not caring who it was that was calling, just hoping it was someone who could calm me down. “H-hello?” my voice trembled, sobs shaking through me. 

“Isolde? What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you alright?” It was Jaebum, rattling off question after question, his voice filled with worry. Hearing him made that tight feeling in my chest instantly lift, making it easier to breathe. 

“I went onto a Korean news site today and Jimin…he’s-he’s-” “I know, Is. I know.” a broken cry left my lips, my body collapsing onto the hardwood floor, Bane immediately coming into my lap. 

“Five months months, Jae. Five months and she’s already getting what I waited three years for. I just-I just want you here with me. I wish I’d never left, so I could see you. You’re the only one who’s been able to make me feel like everything was alright. I need you right now, here, with me.“ 

“Isolde, listen to me. Hang up and wait for me to facetime you, okay?” I was perplexed by his request, but agreed to it anyway.

“Okay.“ 

“I’ll be two seconds, I swear. Just hang on, baby.“ 

Baby.

That word echoed through my mind as I hung up, my hand at my side, clutching my phone as I pet Bane’s long fur. I’d only had him for a month and he already seemed to know when I needed him the most.

My phone went off again, this time a facetime call. I wiped my tears and answered, his sharp features coming into my view. It had seemed like forever since I’d looked into those dark chocolate eyes, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me. 

“Isolde, it’s alright.” he cooed, his brow furrowed in concern. 

He was wearing a simple black beanie, had all black on and what looked like a backpack on his back. 

Where was he? 

“Is that why you ghosted me for two days, because you didn’t want to tell me?” I questioned, eyes scanning his face for answers. “No! No, Isolde. That’s not why at all.” he reassured me, he was walking quickly now, more like jogging really. 

“Then why?“ 

“Open your front door and I’ll show you.“ 

I froze, heart leaping into my throat anxiously. “W-what?” I stuttered, standing up and knocking Bane off my lap by accident. He stopped moving now, trying to catch his breath. 

“Open the door and I’ll show you.“ 

I spun, sprinting to my apartment door and flinging it open. There stood Im Jaebum, still trying to catch his breath from running, his broad chest heaving. We stood there silently, just starring at each other, phones still on facetime. 

“Hey, Is.” he finally said, a smile pulling at his lips. I dropped my phone completely, not caring if it broke and jumped at him, my arms around his neck. He easily caught me, his grip strong as he hoisted me up and put my legs around his waist. 

“You’re here, Jae.” I whispered, my face in the crook of his neck, crying once again. 

“I’d never ghost you, Is. Not unless I had a good reason and I thought this was reason enough. I booked a flight as soon as Suran told me about Jimin. I wanted you to hear it from me in person, not over the phone for once.” he replied, his chilly hands sliding under my black sweatshirt to feel my skin. 

“You scared me.“ 

I confessed, my right hand pulling his beanie off so I could run my fingers through his hair with my left. "I’m sorry, I just wanted you to know in person, so I could actually hold you and tell you it was alright. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” his cold hands against my searing skin sent chills up my spine, my hold on him tightening. 

I pulled back, looking down at the man I’d only seen over a screen every day for that last eight and a half months. He was even better in person, his eyes looked like they could hold galaxies and his lips could make stars. His hands moved to my thighs, helping me keep my legs wound around his waist. 

“I know you didn’t, Jaebum.” I took his face into my palms, thumbs grazing his cheeks. 

“I’ve never been more happy to see someone in person, as I am you right now. It feels really selfish to be saying that when I know how upset you are.” his voice was low, gravely as he spoke, eyes landing on my lips before shooting back to up to my gaze. 

“I’ve never been more okay, than I am right now. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to say that again, especially in someone else’s arms.” you could cut the tension with a knife if you wanted to, the silence alone was suffocating. 

“I want to kiss you so badly, Is. But after what you found out today, I don’t want to hurt you anymore than you already are.” my breath hitched in my throat, bottom lip being pulled between my teeth. 

“The only way you could hurt me now, is by not kissing me.“ 

“Is-“ 

“Please, it’s all I’ve wanted for the past five months, maybe even more.” I told him, pressing my forehead against his, eyes closing. 

“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” even though he had told me what he wanted, he was still putting me before him, making sure I didn’t do anything irrational. 

“I can’t find one reason why I would.“ 

I heard him take a deep breath, his lips moving forward to brush against mine. “Are you sure? I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop once I do.” his hot breath fanned across my mouth, my core tightening at his words, something I hadn’t experienced in months. 

“I don’t want you to stop.“ 

“Okay.” his lips finally pressed to mine, the kiss hesitant and gentle. My hands moved from his face to his hair, pulling him closer. He was clearly surprised by my actions, his hands leaving my thighs to set me down before he pulled away. He took my face in his hands and pushed me backwards through my doorway, kicking the door shut with his foot. 

“I don’t want you to do this because you’re upset, Isolde. I want this to happen because you want it to.” he pointed out, still holding my face in his hands as his lips kissed my forehead. 

“Why do you think I call you when I’m upset or when I’m happy, Jaebum? You stopped being just a “friend” in my eyes eight and a half months ago when you told me I deserved the stars, not just a painting of them. Having you here, right in front of me only solidifies that for me.“ he chuckled, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 

“You remember that?” my arms wound around his waist as I stepped closer to him, feeling him against me. 

“I don’t know how I could forget. That day, I saw you in an entirely different light, Im Jaebum and I haven’t been able to see you differently since.“ 

“You are by far, the greatest thing to happen to me in these last few months. He’s a fucking moron for letting you go, Isolde.” It was my turn to laugh and he seemed a little surprised by it. 

“Maybe. But, if he hadn’t been, I wouldn’t be here with you right now.“ 

“I’ll have to send him a ‘thank you’ card.“ 

His lips connected with mine, this time much rougher. His tongue ran along my lower lip and I let him in without a second thought. He grunted into the kiss, his tongue dominating as he picked me back up. A gasp escaped my mouth when he gripped my ass, fingers digging into the flesh that was covered only by thin black leggings. I pushed his backpack down his shoulders and he let it drop to the ground with a thud. Moving us to the nearest wall, he pushed my back against it as he explored the most sensitive parts of my neck. 

“You need to tell me to stop before I can’t, Isolde.” he growled, his left hand crawling up my sweatshirt to feel my skin against his. 

“No, please don’t stop.” I begged, my hands grabbing his back as he pulled the skin of my neck between his lips. 

“I swear I didn’t come all this way just for this, Isolde. I just wanted to be here for you when you found out.” he pointed out, his lips trailing up my jaw to my lips, pecking them over and over. I palmed his face, pulling him to look at me as a smile spread across my lips. 

“I know you didn’t, Jaebum. That’s what I like about you. You’ve had my feelings in mind since day one and I can’t say I’ve ever experienced that before now. Not talking to you for the last two days has felt like torture for me. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to see you or even just hear your voice every day, until I couldn’t.” he let out a groan, bracing one of his hands on the wall beside my head while the other held one of my thighs. 

“It nearly killed me to ignore you like that, Is. So many times, I almost picked up and told you I was on my way. But, then I remembered how much better it’d be if I just wound up here when you least expected it. I’d get to see your smile for real, hug you and hear your voice in my ear from your own lips, not a phone speaker. As much as it pained me to not talk to you and know what I had to tell you, I didn’t want to do it anywhere but right here.” I kissed him softly, letting my legs fall back off his waist as he continued to pin me to the wall.

 After I pulled away, he nuzzled his nose against mine, making me smile widely. Jimin was nowhere in my thoughts when Jaebum touched me or kissed me. It was only him and in that moment I knew, I was done with Jimin completely. Even after reading about his fiancé and feeling like my world was crashing down all over again, the first person I went to was him. Not to cry about Jimin and her, but to hear his voice and let him calm me like he always did. Comfort me and tell me everything would be alright, like he had for over eight months now. He was who I wanted to be with, him and only him. 

“Come with me.” I took his hand in mine and pulled him towards my room, dragging him inside before shutting the door. I swiftly reattached our lips, his hands moving to my hips as I pushed us towards the bed. 

Before I could shove him down onto it, he switched our positions and we tumbled on to the bed together. I let out a loud laugh when we accidentally bumped foreheads, his nose scrunching as he snickered. 

“Well, this is sexy, isn’t it?” he said sarcastically as he rested on his elbow above me, his other hand on my face as his thumb ran along my bottom lip. I covered his hand with mine, leaning into his touch as my eyes closed. 

I couldn’t even remember how Jimin’s hands had felt against my skin anymore, and I didn’t want to. All I could think about was how good Jaebum’s felt, and how much I wanted to feel them everywhere else. 

“I don’t care how sexy it is or isn’t, I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.” I breathed out, my eyes opening to find his, dilated and full of emotion. 

“Me either, Is. But, I want you to be sure about this though. I don’t want you to have any regrets after it’s all said and done. I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to prey on your vulnerability or that I’m just in this for sex. I’d rather have you as my friend and keep my feelings to myself, than lose you altogether.” tugging on the collar of his shirt, I pulled him in for a deep kiss, lips moving perfectly in sync with one another. 

“You’re not going to lose me. I want this too, I promise.” I reiterated into his kiss, not wanting to separate from him. 

“I just…I just want to be sure.” he continued, dragging himself away so he could see me. 

“I’m sure. Now, stop talking and get your damn clothes off already.” I demanded with a smirk, shoving him so I could sit up and yank the sweatshirt from my body. 

A snarl ripped through his chest as I bared my naked torso to him and began removing my leggings. He pulled his shirt off, carelessly tossing it aside before kicking his shoes and socks away, then removing his tight jeans. His erection strained against the fabric of his boxers, making me bite my lip as I felt a rush of heat between my legs. I moved up the bed, laying down with my arms above my head as I waited for him to join me. 

His lips were on my thighs, slowly working their way up to my stomach, fingers trailing behind. He kissed between the valley of my breast before dragging his lips over to a already hardened nipple and brushing against it. Only his eyes looked up, silently asking for permission. I bit my lip again as I smiled, urging him to keep going. He didn’t break eye contact as he took the peak between his lips, flicking his tongue over it. A moan bubbled in my throat as his hand moved to the other, rolling it between his forefinger and thumb. Swiping his tongue over it one last time, he left to do the same to the other. 

This time his hand trailed down between us, finger pressing on my clit through my dampening underwear. I jolted at the contact, hips jerking towards his hand. He released my nipple, his teeth dragging over it before moving back up to my mouth. I reached down and palmed him through his boxers, feeling his long thick length in my hand. His lips instantly pulled away, a loud hiss escaping as he now circled my swollen bud. I gripped his neck with my free hand, lifting myself up to suck a mark onto his collarbone, just bellow his neck. 

“I don’t even know what you like, Is. You’re going to have to tell me.” he whispered into my ear after he removed himself from my grasp. 

“Do whatever you want to me, Jae. Please, I just want to feel you, all of you.” I whined, raking my nails up his chest until they found his hair. 

“Whatever I want?” he questioned, the look on his features darkening instantly. I nodded. 

“Whatever you want.” he sat up, taking hold of my wrist and yanking me up with him. 

“Stand up.” he demanded as he did the same, pushing the last bit of clothing from his hips. He sprang free, his cock standing tall, the tip red and weeping. 

“Take those off and then come sit on my face so I can finally taste you.“ 

I should have blushed at his words, but the only thing I found myself doing was hastily removing my underwear and pushing him back down on the bed. I took my time crawling up to him, kissing his muscular thighs and purposefully moving right past his hard member. I sucked purple marks into his hipbones as he squirmed beneath me, his fingers pulling on the sheets. I continued my journey upwards, leaving little marks as I went until I reached his lips, giving them a peck. 

“Get up here.” he took hold of my waist and forcefully dragged me up as far as he could and I decided to move the rest of the way. Once I was positioned above him, he pulled my thighs where he wanted them and dived right in. My head flung back, lips parting but no sound coming out. He acted like a man starving, his tongue doing the unspeakable as he drove me to the edge. I don’t think I’d ever felt my climax approach this fast from oral in my entire life, and Jimin had excelled in that field. His lips wrapped around my clit, sucking on it harshly, making me cry out. 

“Fuck, Jae-” I choked out, fingers digging into my own thighs. He let go with a pop, smirking up at me as I fell apart. 

“Do you want to cum on my tongue, fingers or my cock?” he inquired, his hands running over my ass before grabbing the ample flesh and squeezing. 

“All of it, I want all of it.” I replied, taking my hands through his hair as I looked down at the beautiful sight beneath me. 

“Greedy, aren’t we?“ 

“I haven’t been fucked right in almost nine months, I think I can be greedy.” I pointed out, tugging on his hair slightly. 

“Welcome to the club, baby.” he went back to work, tongue delving into my core, twisting and turning rapidly. He then moved back to my clit, his tongue working back and forth with such vigor, I don’t know how his jaw kept going. 

“Right there–oh, God!” I released onto his tongue as he lapped at my arousal, not missing a single drop. As I came down from my high, my head feeling fuzzy, he swiftly moved me so I was now under him. 

“Ready for the next one?“ 

“I’m still struggling from the first one.“ 

“Good.” he slipped two fingers in me without warning, my core still sensitive from my last orgasm. He curled his digits, searching for the right spot until he found it. I let out a loud moan, not even trying to hold it back this time. His pace was slow, but had me building back up in no time as he repeatedly hit my g-spot. He prodded at it, over and over, cries of pleasure leaving my parted lips as I panted. 

“Come on, baby, cum for me. I want you to cum all over my fingers, just like you did my tongue.“ 

“Jesus, Jae! You’re driving me insane!” I shouted, hands moving to grip his shoulders, leaving marks in them from my nails. 

“That’s the intention. Now come on, let go. I can feel how close you are.” as if on command, my second orgasm rolled through me, his name leaving my lips in a scream. He didn’t even wait for me to come down from it this time, just positioned himself and slammed into me. 

“Fuck–you’re so tight.” he gasped, his lips finding the spot below my ear. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, getting him as close as I could to my body. He brought his face back to me, eyes searching mine as his hips snapped into me. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Isolde. I don’t know how anyone could manage to let you out of their grasp. I’d literally kill to keep you.“ 

“No need to. I’m all yours.“ 

His lips crushed to mine, tongues colliding desperately as we both chased our highs. “I’m close, Jae–really close.” I warned him, fingers tugging on his hair as he rested his forehead against mine. 

“Me too–where do you want me to cum?“ 

"I’m on birth control, so wherever you want." 

"Good, I’m going to fill you to the brim.” my head flew back at his words, crying out as he gave me another hard thrust, sending me overboard for a third time. 

“Shit-shit-shit!” he cursed loudly, moaning as he released into me, so much I could feel it leaking out of me already. He gave a few final thrust before he completely stopped and met my gaze. 

I smiled, taking in his sweaty face and chest, realizing how beautiful he truly was to me. I never thought I’d be able to think that about another man again and here I was, cursing myself for thinking that when one had been right in front of me all along. Tears pricked at my eyes as I stared at him, my right hand running through his damp hair. 

“No, no, no! Don’t cry, Is! Fuck! I’m sorry! This is exact-” my index finger touched his lips, shushing him the exact same way he did to me on our way to the airport all those months ago. 

“Jae, they’re good tears. Calm down, babe.” he let out a loud sigh of relief, pulled out of me and laid down. 

He brought me to his chest, his arms winding around my shoulders as he kissed my tangled locks. My hand splayed out across his abdomen, feeling the rippling muscles under my fingers as he caught his breath. 

“This feels different.” I confessed, eyes becoming more tired than I remembered being. "Good different or bad different?“ 

"Good. Definitely good, Jaebum.”

[winkinglester]

Ride of My Life

summary: 'we sat next to each other on a roller coaster and ended up accidentally ditching our friends oops' au

word count: 1.7k

genre: fluff

warnings: swearing. also roller coasters??

a/n: im a slut for au’s so. here. also, feedback is always appreciated!!

Phil’s legs were beginning to ache. It wasn’t his fault he got winded easily; it was just that his friends all hadn’t quit sports and they could handle flight after flight of stairs.

The nearby amusement park was having a half-off day where tickets were ridiculously cheap, so apparently, all of London wanted to spend their day there. Even though it was a hell of a bargain, Phil couldn’t understand why so many people wanted to spend their afternoons in high heat, waiting for a thirty-second ride, just so they could slowly get nauseous. He wasn’t even sure why he had joined his friends today, anyways.

So, that brought Phil to where he was, climbing endless stairs to the top of whatever roller coaster they were riding next. Supposedly, this one made people go unconscious. Great.

“Phil, dude, have you ever ridden this?” Phil’s friend PJ asked. “It’s mental. It goes so fast you forget who you are.” All of Phil’s friends nodded in agreement.

Phil shrugged. “I’ve never ridden this one in particular, but I can imagine.” He wasn’t trying to sound so bitter, but his legs hurt, he wasn’t enjoying himself, and fuck it was hot today. What else could he expect from July?

“You’re totally not ready for this, man,” another one of his friends said, lightly punching his arm. “It’s gonna blow your socks off.”

Phil frowned and looked down at his socks. One blue sock with popsicles and one light green sock with sharks. “I like these socks, I don’t wanna lose them.”

PJ rolled his eyes and laughed. “Come on, the line’s moving.”

The group of boys slowly made their way up the line until they were next. Phil was annoyed to see that the roller coaster sat five people across. Their group had six.

“Shit, who’s alone?”

“We could do four and two, or three and three- “

“Maybe we can- “

“I’ll just ride alone, I really don’t care,” Phil muttered, stepping over to the ‘Single Riders’ sign.

“Are you sure? We can probably figure something out,” PJ said, looking around.

Phil put his hands on PJ’s shoulders and half-smiled. “I don’t mind, Peej, really.”

PJ raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Suit yourself, man.”

It was their turn next, so Phil climbed into the roller coaster. Somehow, he ended up in the front row. He was buckling his seatbelt when someone slid in next to him. Phil looked over nonchalantly. The boy that had just sat down next to him was, surprisingly, as tall as him, which was different. He had brown hair that was starting to curl at the edges, and deep caramel eyes to match. Freckles were peppered across his face, making little constellations here and there. He folded his legs awkwardly under the seat, trying to get comfortable.

“It helps to put your knees like this,” Phil found himself saying to the boy, adjusting his legs so the boy could see.

The boy wiggled into place and smiled at Phil. “Thanks,” he said, a grin that was way too big for his face settling in. Phil immediately wanted to get to know the boy for some reason.

“Uh, you like riding?” Phil asked. “Wait! Oh my god! I meant riding roller coasters!” Phil clapped his hand over his mouth. Good job, Phil, he thought. Scaring people away has always been a skill of yours.

The boy laughed, throwing his head back and almost hitting the roller coaster seat. “I-jesus-yeah. I love roller coasters,” he wheezed. Tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

Phil found himself laughing too, and soon the two boys were sat next to each other, cackling and drawing attention from everyone around them. This was the most fun Phil had had all day.  

The boys talked for another minute, exchanging names and other basic information until the roller coaster began to move. Phil smiled despite himself; he had gotten so lost in conversation with Dan that he had forgotten the ride was about to start.

“Welcome to the Superman,” a deep voice announced. The roller coaster jerked forwards, creaking slightly. Phil felt uneasy, but excited. He looked over at Dan, who was laughing and kicking his feet like a child. Phil smiled.

“…and please keep all loose objects secured. Have a nice ride!” The safety speech finished and the roller coaster began to slowly lurch up the first big drop. Phil felt his stomach flip over once, then twice.

“I hope we don’t die!” Dan said, kicking Phil’s foot lightly. His hands were tight around the protective bar.

“I hope so too,” Phil said, staring at Dan for just a second too long. With that, the ride reached the top of the hill and took off.

--

“Look at your face!” PJ laughed, pulling Phil next to him to view the post-ride pictures. The ride had just ended and holy shit that was fun. Phil couldn’t believe that he had actually enjoyed it.

“Yeah, that’s quite attractive,” Phil muttered distractedly, looking around for Dan. Phil had an ugly scream face, he knew that, but he was more interested in finding his new friend. When he spotted the brunette talking to a pretty blonde, he ignored the pang in his stomach and strolled over.

“Hey, Dan, we were going to ride the Tantrum next, did you want to join us?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. The blonde turned to her friends.

Dan glanced back at the group he was standing with and rolled his eyes. “Yes, please. My friends are great but I would love to ride with someone else.” He lowered his voice. “Steph here grips my arm as if she’s trying not to fall out.” He rolled up his sleeve to show Phil four half-moon shaped dents in his arm. “The acrylic nails are killing me.”

“More like they’re acr-killing you,” Phil joked putting up finger guns. Dan groaned.

“Never mind, I’m not riding anything else with you, that pun was terrible,” he said, hiding his laughter.

Phil nudged his shoulder and led Dan back to his friends. “Everyone, this is Dan.”

--

Dan and Phil exited another ride together, laughing and clutching their stomachs. This was their third- or was it their fourth?- time riding Revenge! and Phil never wanted to stop. Except maybe he did, since he was beginning to feel warnings in his stomach.

Dan was finishing some story about secondary school and cry-laughing. “And when he showed up, the entire class was wearing Shrek masks. I’ve never heard a grown man scream louder.”

Phil snorted. He was beginning to like Dan a lot. He looked over at the boy, who was still laughing. His hair had finally given up, loose curls falling down his face. His skin was flushed from having been upside down so many times, but it just drew more attention to the boy’s tan.  

Dan glanced at Phil and caught him staring, which sent Phil looking in the opposite direction, blushing. The two boys sat down on a nearby bench. Phil could smell funnel cake nearby, and he could hear distant screams of happiness.

“Ah, shit,” Dan sighed.

“What?” Phil asked.

“We both totally ditched our friends, didn’t we?” Dan looked at Phil, eyes twinkling.

“I think we did,” Phil answered, leaning back on the bench. He pulled out his phone to send his group a brief “I’m not dead, don’t worry about me” text and Dan did the same. When Phil set his phone back down, his and Dan’s hands brushed. Cue more blushing.

Relax, Phil, you don’t have a crush on someone you literally met four hours ago, Phil told himself. Even if you spent the whole day with them, can’t stop staring at them, and would gladly make out with them.

“So, who are you? What are you into, besides emo music and stupid memes?” Phil asked.

“I like reading, and writing, and listening to music, and video games.” Dan smiled at Phil. “Any nerdy shit, I’m into it.”

“Me too. Do you like school?” Phil asked, cursing himself for sounding like his mother.

“Hell no,” Dan replied. “Tell me about yourself, Phillip. Favorite color? Three items you’d take to an abandoned island? Got a girlfriend?”

Phil thought for a moment. “Blue or green, probably some cereal, my phone and earbuds, and nope.”

Dan tilted his head. “Why no girlfriend? You’re cute.”

Phil ignored the last comment and looked down. “I like boys, so…”

Dan’s eyes lit up. “Me too!”

Phil felt relief flood through him, for some reason. “Yeah? What’s your type, then?”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Cute boys who spend entire afternoons with me after we just met,” he said.

Phil bit his lower lip, trying to decide between sprinting away at 90 miles per hour and kissing Dan senseless.

He decided on the latter.

Dan’s lips met Phil’s as soon as Phil started leaning towards him. Dan kissed with little pecks, and Phil could feel his smile through his lips. He could only hear Dan’s breath and his own heartbeat as they kissed, keeping track of however long they spent with their lips attached. Dan smelled like coffee and mint, the scent surrounding Phil. His lips were chapped, compared to Phil’s smooth ones, but Phil didn’t really mind since he had sort of wanted to kiss Dan ever since he showed him how to deal with long ass legs. Phil felt Dan’s nose brush against his cheek, and heard Dan laugh nervously. Phil simply responded by putting his hand on Dan’s cheek and deepening the kiss. Dan opened his mouth, allowing Phil’s tongue to slip in smoothly. Dan leaned into Phil some more, kissing as if he would die tomorrow.

After what seemed like hours, the boys finally pulled apart sheepishly.  Phil heard hoots in the distance and turned around to see not only his friends, but Dan’s too, cheering them on.

Dan gave them the finger.

“Come on, lover boy!” PJ yelled. “Your ride’s leaving!”

“I guess I’ll see you around?” Phil suggested, turning back to Dan. Dan grabbed Phil’s phone and quickly tapped in his number.

“If you’re lucky,” he said with a wink.

Phil smiled at Dan for the billionth time that day.

[annnnnnabanana]

How can you tell them that you want them and that you care for them but you can’t be with them. I’ll always be there for you. when it is 3am and im drunk or when its 2pm and im working. I’m there. always there. it’s you; it’s always been you since I met you five months ago. The way you make me feel is insane. It’s an indescribable feeling. You made me feel every single fucking emotion. You made me so happy but you managed to make me so sad. Luckily the happy outweighed the sad. Maybe one day we will cross paths, you’ll see me, i’ll see you, we’ll meet up and reconnect and talk like we never stopped. Our passion was like fire. Bright and hot. We loved hard for five months. We definitely fought to be together. You picked me. You wanted me instead of her. I picked you over everyone. You understood me. I remember staying up for nights in a row just to talk to you until morning. Our silences were so calming and weren’t awkward. I could sit there and listen to you breathe and be so content with life. I wish we were in my car and I was driving doing something stupid and you just laughed like I was an idiot but I really knew you were falling in love with me with every little moment we spent together. From the waffle house dates to playing monopoly to getting lost in Narnia a.k.a. IKEA to sitting in my room just talking to being on facetime and you making music or you showing me your favorite songs. God I miss you. To be honest, I don’t think i’ll ever stop missing you. You were something special. You didn’t know how to open up to me. I struggled because i knew you wanted to let me in but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to get hurt. You didn’t want someone to learn so much about you that they could hurt you. I wasn’t ever going to hurt you. I never planned on it. But you, you hurt me. You destroyed me. I’m broken because of you. But there you are, partying and getting drunk with random people you don’t know, probably fucking some girl in your room, to suppress your feelings; but here I am, getting drunk and crying my pitiful, sad tears all alone to let out my feelings. You’re numb. You put up these walls that I spent five months trying to break down. I let you in straight away because i’m too trusting. I care too much. I love too deeply. I get attached too easily. It fucks me up. Maybe one day i’ll learn to not do that to keep my heart from being broken and crushed. You ripped my heart out of my chest tonight. I’ll be numb too, just like you. But eventually i’ll be okay. I’ll find someone who won’t make me feel like this. You’ll still be sleeping around trying to forget your hurt and pain. I wonder if you’ll lay in your bed at night tossing and turning because you can’t sleep because you’re thinking of me and if I still miss you. If you’re wondering, I do. We both have some growing up to do. We both were changing. You couldn’t handle having someone there to help you through it. You didn’t want to change together. You didn’t want to grow with me, I did. I wanted to go through everything with you; the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. You were scared you were going to hurt me so you let me go. It was more painful to know you didn’t want to try with me. You tried to spare my feelings. I’m not some fragile fucking doll. I am a damn human. I am strong and I can take what you throw at me. I wanted us to work out. In all honesty, it got to the point, for me, where I was day dreaming about our future together. Our house, our jobs, our kids, our wedding. All of it. But it doesn’t matter now. You threw it all away… But I hope you can be happy and successful just like I hope you wish the same for me. I won’t talk bad about you because you were and still are what I wanted. You’ll forever be engraved in my heart and my mind. You taught me how a guy should treat me, how I should be loved, and I can’t thank you enough for it. Hopefully, I taught you something too. Maybe you can love your next girl even better and treat her even better. Maybe she will be more than what I could/ did give you. I hope she does you well. I hope she checks up on you while you’re drunk. I hope she likes your music and she supports you. I hope she doesn’t get mad when you need to be alone because you’re going through something you can’t explain. I hope she knows your favorite colors, that you only like Chickfilas diet lemonade and that’s all you will drink from there, your slightly unhealthy obsession with Selena Gomez and butts, that you love choking people and that it is your job, that you can eat seven plates of food and still be hungry, that your favorite movie of all time is Dead pool, that you’re insecure about your calves and only you can make fun of them or you get upset, that you and your sister are really close, that you and your dad share college stories, that you love memes and deadlifting, that your favorite animal is a penguin, that you believe in aliens, that even though you are lactose intolerant you still choose to eat area 51 ice cream because that is your favorite place, that you also really love chicken nuggets and I think if it were possible you would marry them, that you love waffle house, that you love crazy crew socks, that you love being dressy and you love playing dress up, that when you start tapping your fingers to the beat of a song you are playing the beat in your head and trying to figure it out, that you’re weird but it makes you ten times funnier, that you are charming, that you are the perfect gentleman, that it is hard for you to open up and let people in, and I hope she gets to know more of you than I got to know even if I wanted to know every detail about you; from the day you were born to the very day and moment we are in right now.

Why can’t you get drunk and text me that you miss you like I do when i’m drunk. It doesn’t seem fair that you hold it together so well while i’m barely holding on by a thread, just dangling there waiting for someone to cut the string. You remember how this whole thing started? It started with Grey’s Anatomy. You tweeted, “what’s so hype about greys?” I replied, “hot doctors and crazy cool illnesses.” You said, “hmm maybe i’ll watch an episode.” A few days later, I dmed you because it gave me the perfect excuse to talk to you. Of course you said you didn’t watch it. I remember the first thing you told me was that you thought your middle name was weird and then you randomly told me your middle name. we talked every day from that night. We made so many memories starting from that night. and now… now it’s all over. Both going through the same cycle. Heartbreak, sadness, possibly anger, happiness. But then we just start over with someone new and then go through that cycle with them. I didn’t want to have to start over. I didn’t want to go through the heartache or the breakups or the sadness. I wanted to be with you and only you. I wanted to wake up at 4am and look to my left and see you laying next to me. I wanted to make breakfast together in our cute apartment/ house. I wanted to cuddle up next to you on our couch eating dinner and drink some sort of alcoholic beverage enjoying each others company watching some weird ass show I probably found. I’ll always wonder what you’re doing. If you’re talking to some new girl. If you’re having sex with some girl to fill the void like you do. I’ll wonder if you’re okay. I’ll wonder if you wonder about me. I’ll wonder if you want to get back together with me. I’ll always wonder. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I miss you and I hope you miss me too. 1/22/2017 2:05am 1/24/2016 11:03pm You texted me today. I replied with I miss you. You didn’t reply. I drove to all of our places today. I cried and I laughed because of our memories we made. Im sad because I know that it’s completely over between us and I wish it wasn’t because we had so much growing to do that we could have done together. I know you want to be with me but right now it’s too hard. We could have been something special, ya know? Really special. We could have given each other the world. I miss you so much. Its only been four days but all I do is cry. 1/27/17 8:07am I am in class. It’s boring. And all I’m doing is thinking about you. I still miss you. It’s been 6 days, almost a week since we broke up. I’m still sad but I’m better. I hope we can try again one day. You were and still are my favorite person. You make me so happy. You said you wanted to be with me but you couldn’t. It hurt but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as when you said you are trying to detach yourself. That broke me. I’m sorry for talking about my feelings and oversharing and just missing you. I don’t really know what to do. I have this feeling that we will get back together but in my mind we won’t. I have not been able to get the thought out of my head that you are fucking some other girl and the thought of that makes me sick. Like honestly sick, like I could throw up at any moment. I had a dream last night: you came to my house with flowers, talked to my mom. You didn’t tell her we were broken up because you knew that I never told her in hopes of us getting back together and I didn’t want her to not like you. You came to my room and asked if we could talk and I said get the hell out because I didn’t want to speak to you because you broke my heart. You didn’t leave. You came in, shut my door and sat on my bed. I sat up and said I didn’t want to hear anything you had to say because I was sick of your bullshit. You talked to my anyways because you knew I would listen. You said, “I want to be with you, Anna. I miss you and I keep coming back to you. You are my favorite person. I would do anything for you. I care about you so much. Do you miss me? (as if you didn’t already know the answer).” “Of course I miss you, Braeden. How could I not? You were so special to me and I don’t think you realized it. But I am so sick of your bullshit excuses and I’m tired of running back to you just so you can break my heart again and again and again. You showed me something about myself that I didn’t think anyone could show me. You showed me how I should be treated by everyone that came into my life and I can’t thankyou enough for that.” “Do you wanna go for a drive with me”, you asked. “Yeah, I do.” We got up to leave. My mom said be safe and that she loved us. We got in your car and started driving. You told me why you left and that there was no ulterior motive behind it, that you weren’t lying. I am so appreciative of the fact that you are so honest with me. I stared out the window while you were talking to me. I couldn’t look at you without crying. I just wanted to hug and kiss you but I knew I couldn’t do that. That it wouldn’t be fair to me or you. I am always looking out for you. I always have and will put you and your feelings above myself even though I know I shouldn’t do that. You looked at me looking out the window and you smiled. I saw it in the reflection of the windshield. I said what. You said, “I have to tell you something and im not sure how you will react or how im going to react after the words come out of my mouth.” I said, “what is it? Are you gonna tell me you slept with 15 girls in the matter of a 2 weeks and then got back together with Mallory?” “No I wasn’t going to tell you that. Why would you think that? I never even thought of sleeping with someone else Anna.”, you said. I said, “ that’s what you do Braeden. When you are single, you fuck. That’s all you do is fuck.” I knew when I said that, I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I apologized for saying it. You know I would never hurt you on purpose. You told me that it was okay; that you knew I was sorry. You acted like it didn’t affect you. I hate when you do that. You put up this façade and act like nothing matters to you and that nothing hurts you and that you don’t care. I do it too. I am trying to stop it. You said, “can I tell you what I was trying to tell you ten minutes ago?” we are in horn lake somewhere, I don’t remember driving that far. “yes you can, Im sorry.” Im always apologizing for something. “don’t be sorry, Anna. But * long pause* I think I love you.” I sit up and I finally looked at you. “what?” “Yes, Anna, I really do.” “Since when Braeden because you sure as hell don’t act like it,” I said. “since I met you. I knew it on our first date that I was gonna fall in love with you.” “oh…,” I said. Then I woke up and Im not quite sure what happened after that.. I know that this dream will never happen in real life. I know that you don’t love me like that. I know you don’t want me. And that’s okay. I’m eating. More than the last time we broke up. Im not drowning my feelings and filling my veins with alcohol like I did before. Im better. I might be sad but im better. My mom asked about you Friday, I had to tell her and she got mad at me for not telling her sooner… Telling her, made it seem so much more real. I didn’t want her to know because it gave me some sort of hope in us getting back together. I didn’t want her to not like you but she still likes you even loves you. I had another dream; all you did was text me about some hockey player attatched with a picture. It was weird and I don’t know what’s happening to me. Its been 4 days and I still haven’t cried.. its been a week and one day since we broke up and it still hurts just like it did the first time you broke up with me. Day 11 since we broke up… 2/1/17 10:31am Well its our almost what would have been six months of being together. 3 months of officially dating. But that doesn’t exist anymore. I got sad yesterday and of course im still sad today. I think about you all the time. You never leave my mind. It’s literally impossible to go a second without seeing thinking of you. I see you in everything I do. It hurts me but somehow makes me happy at the same time. I still have all our pictures and videos because I can’t seem to delete them. It would make me sad to know that I could never look back at all the memories we made. I am honestly surprised I am doing as well as I am. When we broke up the first time, I was a mess. I didn’t eat or sleep or anything really. The only thing I did was drink and drink and drink. Its all I did for a week straight. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t breathe. I felt sick. I missed my home. My comfort. My safe place. You were my home. I never felt safer than when I was in your arms. Your hugs made me feel warm and happy. No matter what I did or how I felt, you were always there for me. It’s hard to do things without thinking of you or it bringing back memories. I can’t listen to certain songs or go to certain places or order certain things without crying or feeling sadness because it is all associated with you. I remember every little detail about you and our relationship. It’s a constant cycle of me just replaying our memories in my brain. It’s never ending. You are on my mind when I wake up, all day, when I go to sleep, and even in my dreams. I can never get away from you no matter how hard I try. I know it’s not over for us. I feel it in my bones, my heart, my brain, my blood, everything. We are nowhere near done; not any time soon. I was talking to Meagan last night. I know what you are thinking; your best friend. My Mallory has told me over and over that all you did was use me for sex. But I don’t think you did. If I did, you wouldn’t have stayed with me for five months. You would have left me the second after we did stuff together. I think you genuinely cared for me and showed me how I should be treated and I cant thank you enough for that. I am so appreciative of you. I know you know that I am always there for you no matter what and that I will always care for you and that you will ALWAYS have a special place in my heart. I told her that I think we were getting super serious too fast and it scared you. You aren’t used to something like that. You take your time but I think you realized that you were falling and falling hard and fast and you didn’t know what to do or how to handle it. I was scared because I didn’t know what was happening. Im terrified. I didn’t know what I was feeling or how I was feeling. My emotions went crazy. I think I realized that I was falling too. I’m scared of being happy. Scared of being in love. Scared of fully opening myself up to someone. I know you are too. I don’t think you and Mallory or any of your exes had a connection like we did. I don’t think you felt like this with anyone but me. I really do hope you are doing okay because im not. Im doing horrible. Im constantly being asked if I am and I say yes but I know I am lying and I think they know im lying too. They still like you. They hope that we get back together. They want you to come over on super bowl Sunday. My dad asked about you… He said he missed you and he never says that about anyone. Im sorry I feel the way I feel. Im sorry I couldn’t help you get through what you needed to get through. I told Meagan that she could read this one day but I don’t think I will let her. Maybe one day I can stop writing because A) we get back together or B) I finally get over you. Man, I hope it is the first one. I really do. But for right now, I’m not done writing and I won’t be anytime soon.. I Love You So Much. Its 3:03am on Friday February 3rd, 2017. You sent me a song yesterday that you remixed. It was another one of your breakup mixes, you know, the ones that make you a lot of money and get you a lot of views… yeah one of those. I don’t know why you did it. Was it to hurt me? To remind me of you and that you still existed? Either way it was still good and I really like it. But I decided to look up the meaning of the lyrics and it hurt me. “fighting flames of fire hang onto burning wires we don’t care anymore Are we fading lovers?” It makes total sense. We had hardships in our relationship. A lot, actually. We are fading; we don’t talk anymore. We hung to burning wires; clinging for us to stay together. Fighting for what we wanted and needed. I cried for so long today. My mom is worried. I don’t know how long it will take me to be happy again. I’m getting drunk tonight, and Saturday and Sunday. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take my feelings and emotions and the pain. It feels like my heart has been ripped out and stepped on by a bunch of elephants. You were like the ocean and I was drowning. I don’t know what I am doing. I don’t know how I’m functioning. I am a functioning depressed person. I hope you regret it. I hope you regret leaving me. I hope you realize you made a wrong choice and that you come back to me. I hope that you think about me everyday.. and what we could have been. You texted me today.. 2/9/17.. you asked about your red jacket. I know you knew I didn't have it, or so I thought? Was it just an excuse to text me, to see me? What was it? Because i cant keep having you text me randomly when you miss me or when you feel like. Its fucked up on your end knowing how much I care for you.