#is consistent throughout!!!! <- Voice of girl about to destroy and betray herself for nothing

[montanamp3]

why am i sad <- voice of girl whose entire personality is being sad

[let-them-read-fics]

Handle With Care

Requested By @posies4rosie: "Jisoo once gave advice in an interview to people who are having anxiety/depression, that when they feel themselves “slipping under”, they can try turning their thoughts to something lighter and focus on the better things instead before getting consumed. -- Request for reader x Jisoo where reader had one of those episodes and failed to pull herself out, which she thinks she’s failing Jisoo by not being able to help herself, causing her to sink even further. -- Jisoo uses her way to help reader. Angst with a happy ending, please <3"

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,948

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Self-Doubt, Mentions Of Anxiety / Depression, Fluff, Light Smut / Suggestive Themes, Some Cursing, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hello again, my lovely readers! I really enjoyed writing this one, so thank you very much for requesting. I hope all of you enjoy it -- Happy reading!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The day started off like any other, nothing seeming out of place or particularly noteworthy as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and took a look around the room. Jisoo had to leave before you woke up, and a sweet letter on the bedside table served as her parting gift. 

My love, 

We have an early stage today, but I'll be back before you know it. Turn it on if you miss me too much ;)

All my love and kisses,

Your Jichu

It made you smile, imagining her saying those words with a little smirk on her lips, and you mindlessly toyed with the edge of the paper. The power this woman holds over your heart is a bit frightening, if you're honest with yourself. One simple note, merely a paragraph at best, warms your heart immensely. The thought of her alone is capable of making you giddy, magically turning you into a love stricken teenager. She rules your world with care, always making sure you feel important and valued; she fights your demons right beside you, never backing down for a minute. 

Before Jisoo, you falsely thought you knew what love was; the ill-conceived notion that you used as a guide was flawed in every way. You were raised to believe that true, honest love only existed in far-off realms -- in worlds of make-believe; so, naturally, settling had always been your forte. You blended in and stuck with the crowd, always going for the safest option when given the choice. You limited yourself with each decision you made, and deep resentment blossomed within you. 

Resentment at your family for allowing the disease of self-doubt to grow within you. They could've stopped it before it really began; they could've assured you of your worth instead of letting you think your insecurities true. 

Resentment at yourself for believing them. 

Everytime you attempted to break the pattern and listen to your heart when it told you that there was a world beyond such mundanity, some nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was all a lie. Your life so far, as boring as it may have been, was predictable and safe. Although you ached for the unexpected, for some all-consuming thrill to shake up the life you had grown to accept, you always fell back into that old mindset. Your fears outweighed your courage every time, and you knew it was futile to go against them. 

But one day -- one beautiful, fateful day -- you met Jisoo. It was a time in your life that you needed a friend; someone to listen and assure you that things would be okay. In allowing your paths to cross, the universe most certainly blessed you; Jisoo became your confidant in the blink of an eye, offering consistency and understanding, and you let her slip past the walls you spent years so meticulously putting up. 

You didn't do that often, and yet it seemed like a no-brainer with her. She made you feel as though you were enough, that you mattered in a world that so adamantly tried to make you believe otherwise. Her love was unconditional and fierce, thorough and far-reaching.

-

Keeping people at arm's length had always been your way of ensuring that life stayed as predictable as ever, precariously balanced in that safe zone of no risk. Even when you dated people, giving into those innate desires to be cherished despite not deeming yourself worthy, you never really let them in. Not all the way, at least. Something always told you that others were better; closer to perfection. No matter the person, you could always find a reason to say that they were better. That they were something you'd never be; that they had something you'd never have. 

The comparisons didn't stop when you began dating Jisoo, but they sure as hell slowed down some. All of that was her doing; she filled your mind with constant reassurance and love, always showing you what a healthy relationship looked like. Over the years, she learned to read you well: the shifting of your eyes served as a sign that you were getting overwhelmed; the way that you zoned out told her the negative thoughts were barreling in. Though she's convinced you to give yourself some credit in the matter, she's the main one responsible for getting you where you are today.

She's your strength -- your reason for wanting to be better.

-------

"Dalgooomie," you cheerily sing out, your voice echoing throughout the apartment. That familiar sound of paws on hardwood draws a smile from you, and you turn to see him eagerly scrambling towards you. 

"Good morning buddy! Are you ready for a walk?" For a moment, you swear he can understand your high pitched speech; he spins around, wagging his tail happily as he looks towards the door. 

With a laugh, you clip his leash on and the two of you begin your walk. 

It's a gorgeous morning; the sun is peeking up, illuminating a sky of beautifully pastel colors as the grass shines with dew. The beads spring off in different directions, the surface tension of the water breaking every time Dalgom rustles his way through the lawn. You have a feeling that today will be a good day.

If only you knew.

About 15 minutes later, you unlock the front door and grin as he charges into the familiar space. He tugs you with him, drawing a chuckle from you as your feet stumble in through the doorway. 

"Slow down buddy! I know you're hungry but you've gotta give me a second," you shake your head, amused, as you remove his leash and make your way to the kitchen. He follows suit, barking when you take too long for his liking.

"Yah, okay okay!" You scoop his food into the bowl and pat him on the head as he begins to eat.

A ding from your phone sounds off, the notification surprising you a little. Great timing, you think to yourself.

"About to go on stage, I'll text you later. Xoxo"

Your heart warms at the message, and you type a quick reply before heading to the couch to turn the tv on. 

At first, all is well: you watch your girlfriend in awe, always so enraptured by her performances. During one portion of the program, you even run upstairs to retrieve your lightstick and dance around in the middle of the living room. As much as Jisoo can't believe you actually bought one, she thinks it's the most adorable thing ever. 

Everything was going well, truly, until towards the end of the show, when the girls were interviewed with a few other idols. One in particular, a female soloist, stood beside Jisoo, looking completely at ease next to her. She was beautiful in every way imaginable, and you couldn't help but begin to compare yourself. You tried to focus on how happy Jisoo looked as she joked with her members, answering the questions with that quick wit you love so much. But your mind soon again filled with intrusive thoughts, taking the focus away from Jisoo.

She looks so much prettier than you do

Watch how she's looking at Jisoo

They look pretty together

What if Jisoo likes her?

I bet she does

You physically shake your head in an attempt to force the thoughts out. Jisoo loves you, you know that. She's with you for a reason. Eventually you're able to look at the tv again without grimacing, but soon that progress is destroyed all over again. 

The soloist puts her hand on Jisoo's arm, motioning to the girls and herself as she explains something to the MC. She must've cracked a joke, said something really hilarious, because all of them burst into laughter. Jisoo throws her head back, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she giggles loudly. That joyous sound hurts you now, almost feeling like she's laughing at you. 

It's ridiculous and immature, but your brain takes it there no less. You know better, but your mind is flooded with insecurity and fear, overrun by your unforgiving worries. Tears are streaming down your face as the thoughts grow worse and worse, and it feels suffocating. You consider yourself weak for blowing such a seemingly innocent thing so out of proportion, twisting what should be a positive thing for your girlfriend into something negative. But you can't help it. Your brain betrays you, coming up with hundreds of hurtful scenarios that pile on until you can't breath. It's a physical pain, one far too overwhelming to "wish away" now. You turn off the tv and dart up the stairs, set on crying into your pillow until your mind decides to give you a break.

-------

"Y/N, baby, I'm home." Jisoo calls, and you can hear the material of her jacket slide onto the metal hook beside the front door. 

"In here," you say weakly, cursing your voice for even hinting that you're less than okay. For Jisoo, you want to be perfect; you want to seem like you have your shit together. She must not have thought anything out of the ordinary, though, because soon you hear a little giggle from the hallway. 

"Hi Dalgomie, did you miss mommy?" She coos, her voice higher than usual and bouncy as she bends down to scoop up the pup. She pads her way into the kitchen, talking to him all the while. Her free arm snakes around your waist once she reaches you, and she leans around to kiss your temple.

The action was loving and simple -- it shouldn't have made your heart ache. Perhaps it wasn't the act itself that caused it; maybe it was the accumulation of all of your emotions from the day coming to the surface. The feeling of Jisoo's arm around you reminded you of earlier; of how close she was to that woman on the program. They looked incredible, clad in the blingy outfits you could never afford and elegant in their mannerisms. It all brought forth the nasty idea that she's just settling for you -- that she's only with you because she feels sorry for you. 

When you don't start a conversation like normal or even turn to look at her, Jisoo knows something's wrong. Gently, she kisses Dalgom's head before setting him down on the ground. He trots off towards god-knows-where, and you almost wish to be him. You want to avoid the discussion you'll surely be having any minute now; running away has always been your go-to.

But Jisoo won't stand for that. She's mature and honest in every way, and she knows how to handle you. 

"My love, what's wrong?"

She's earnestly concerned, and her tone lets you know she doesn't want you to brush the problem away. Without even knowing the issue yet, Jisoo can tell it's something worth working through. 

"I had an episode today and I wasn't able to stop it." You hang your head, your fingers busying themselves by toying with the bread bag in front of you. Once you had stopped crying earlier, you came down to make yourself some food; after all, you hadn't eaten all day.

Jisoo tuts at you, slowly turning you around to face her. The back of your legs lean against the counter now, and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. A few moments of silence pass, Jisoo giving you the opportunity to elaborate. She always offers you the option to initiate the process, not wanting to risk diminishing your feelings before even knowing what's troubling you. She never patronizes you, and you're endlessly thankful.

With a deep breath, you lower your gaze to the floor and continue. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes is definitely not something you can handle in your already emotional state. 

"I turned your show on today and saw the pretty idol you were talking to. I started comparing myself and it all got worse from there." You inform quickly, just wanting to get the words out. 

She sets her jaw, clenching and releasing the muscles repeatedly as she decides on how best to respond. 

"Did you use the technique we talked about?" She asks gently, releasing the question with care.

"I tried, but it didn't work this time." A single tear rolls down your cheek, and you swipe it away before Jisoo can even notice it.

You feel like you're failing her by giving into your worries, but they're incessant. They fight for your attention, completely overruling any "happy thought" that you might have previously hoped would be capable of mitigating your fears. You're disappointed in yourself, but since when is that a new thing?

"She's an idol, Jisoo. She can relate to you in ways I'll never be able to." 

"You think I'd throw away 4 years with you to be with someone I barely know, because we can relate?"

She voices your fears in such a way that you instantly feel foolish for believing them. Nevertheless, you persist. 

"She's everything I'm not."

"And that's precisely why you never have to worry."

With furrowed brows, you tilt your head and look at Jisoo: her statement confuses you.

"No one else even comes close to you, baby. You're what I want. You're who I want. Every little thing that makes you who you are is a reason I love you." 

Your heart beats harder at her words, taken aback by how genuine they sound. She's saying all the things you need to hear, but it feels too good to be true.

"Loving me is exhausting; I don't see why you keep doing it. You should be with someone who doesn't need coddling… who isn't broken like me. We go in circles, Jisoo. I always go back to giving into my fears." 

She lets out a disbelieving scoff, soft in its volume as she says, "If I wanted to leave, I would've. You've given me more than enough chances to go, and still I have yet to find a reason to. I'm not perfect either, Y/N. You act like everyone else is so high above you, but we're really all just dealing with our own baggage."

"I have enough of that for 10 people." The phrase is pointed and self depreciating, and Jisoo can't take it any longer. 

"Stop. Look at me, baby." She finally breathes out, hooking her fingers underneath your chin and raising your head. 

"Whether or not you think I'm making a mistake, I'm always gonna choose you. My life isn't complete without you in it; our stories became intertwined the day we met."

Her cheek briefly tugs up in a lopsided smile at the memory of your first meeting.

"I'm just scared, Jisoo. Do you know how many times people have told me they'd stay, just to leave the moment they found someone better? I know I'm not easy to love; I know it's difficult. I just can't imagine what I'd do without you. You've made me feel emotions I never even knew existed."

You're more honest with Jisoo than anyone else, and being so vulnerable scares you. Nevertheless, it feels good to open up sometimes. 

"You'll never have to find out what that's like, because I'm never leaving. Do you understand how in love with you I am? I don't think you do." 

You slip your chin out of her hold again, still disappointed in yourself. The action hurts her more than you know, and you miss the way her face contorts into a sad frown. 

"When I roll over in the morning and see your face on that pillow, I don't know what to do with myself. When I'm holding you and Dalgom cuddles in between us, it's like I see a glimpse into my future. When you smile at me it's like I can finally breathe again. My home is with you; please don't ever doubt that. You're my world."

And then, you hear it. The noise that very rarely ever comes from your girlfriend. A sniffle.

Your eyes shoot up to hers in an instant, searching through her deep pools as you step forward to cradle her face in your hands. She tries to turn away, already upset with herself -- she knows you'll blame yourself for her tears. 

Jisoo only cries in front of you when she's frustrated or deeply moved, and sometimes when she's scared. As you run a thumb along her cheek, you attempt to figure out her reasoning for it this time. 

Once she eventually accepts that you aren't letting her get away, she leans into your touch.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You sell yourself so short. The fact that you think you're anything less than incredible devastates me. You're amazing in every capacity… and so, so beautiful." 

Her voice wavers, taut with the emotions she's still reeling from. She says the words so assuredly that you begin to give in and believe them. She makes them sound like simple facts; common knowledge to any and everyone. On top of that, you're pained beyond belief that anything of your doing makes her this sad. She deserves to be smiling constantly, so hard her cheeks hurt and her belly aches from laughing. 

"I'll never be able to see myself like you do, Jisoo, but I'm willing to work on it. You've already helped me more than you'll ever know, and I've come pretty far. Sometimes I just can't keep the thoughts at bay." 

She nods, moving the hand that previously rested on your hip to hold your wrist. She strokes the skin gently, leaning further into your touch as her eyes soften with understanding. 

"I love you. Thank you for dealing with me." You utter, leaning forward to rest your forehead against hers. She sighs at your words, rubbing a comforting circle on your back. 

"Thank you for letting me in, jagi. Saranghae." 

Your lips move to meet hers now, halfway, both of you needing to feel each other. It's slow and meaningful; she takes her time with it, treating it just like she does your heart. You tilt her head to deepen the kiss, noting the warmth that her cheeks still radiate as you trail your fingers over her skin.

A subtle shiver courses through her at your ministrations, drawing a smile from you. You'll never get tired of kissing her; of having her wrapped in your arms, so close to you. Vulnerable moments like these remind you of how different she is from everyone else. She's your everything and then some, and she needs you as much as you need her. 

A bit impatient now, Jisoo tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking for more. You tap her thighs before looping your hands underneath them, swiftly lifting her onto the kitchen counter. The thin material of her skirt sits a little higher up on her legs now, having ridden up as you moved her. 

She hooks her legs around you as you move to stand in between them, preventing her from falling and keeping her as close as possible. You break the kiss to study her for a moment, lazily running your fingers along the newly exposed skin of her thighs. Her hair is on its way to being mussed, the curls from her earlier performance now coming undone. 

Her tongue darts out of her mouth to moisten her lips as she drinks in the sight of you. The top 2 buttons of your blouse are open, allowing her eyes to gaze at your chest wantonly. 

She trails a hand up your body, teasing you before she grips your collar and yanks you forward. 

Your lips meet again but this kiss holds something different than before: it's passionate, full of need. She adjusts her posture so that her body is flush against you, enabling you to feel how hard her heart is beating. No one else is capable of making her feel this way, and she's determined to remind you of that.

You bite her bottom lip before smoothing your tongue over it to soothe any ache your actions might've caused. The act is welcomed by Jisoo, proven by the groan that vibrates in her throat. Her hands tangle in your hair as you lower your head to her neck, pressing your lips to the tender skin. 

"A-ah, right there," she husks out, her voice deepened with desire. Her wish is your command, and you take your time in leaving a mark there. You continue your assault, leaving a trail of purple-ish bruises in your wake as you move to untouched patches of skin. She knowingly spurs your actions on by moaning into your ear when you bite with just the right amount of pressure, her breath hot on your neck. 

You pull away to admire your work, knowing her makeup artist will have a field day with covering up all of your marks. She leans back a bit, slowly swiveling her hips as she uses her ankles to pull you closer. 

Her movements fuel the heat pooling between your legs, and you don't even attempt to stop the moan that leaves you. She knows you so well; she knows exactly what gets you going, just what to do and say.

"Come here," you command, securing her legs around your waist as you lift her off of the counter. Her lips find yours again, keeping them occupied as you walk towards the couch -- trekking up to the bedroom would take far too long. 

"Tell me what you want, baby." You say, laying her down on the plush cushions. She pulls you against herself again, smiling at the feeling of your hips pressed into her. At first, she defies you, opting to push her lips against yours instead of answering your question. You know what to do to make her talk, though. Slyly, you pull away, barely ghosting your lips over hers. It's just enough contact to make her want more, but not enough to satisfy her. 

With a press of your thigh to her center, she's already bucking her hips up into you, reaching up to reclaim your lips. She whines as you pull further away, not allowing her to kiss you until she gives you an answer. 

"Use your words, Jisoo." You add your hand into the mix of things driving her crazy as you trail it down her body, allowing your fingers to sneak under the hem of her shirt and skim over her abdomen.

She looks at you defiantly, causing you to quirk an eyebrow. Challenging you, is she? Two can play at that game. 

You apply more pressure to her core, allowing her to take pleasure in two more strong strokes against your thigh before pulling away completely. 

"Fuck- no. Y/N…" she pleads, reaching for you again. She's really getting worked up now. 

A smirk crosses your lips at her desperation, and you almost have to stifle a chuckle. She knows you're stubborn, and denying herself release seems idiotic when all she has to do is listen to you. So, she gives in.

"I want your mouth; your fingers. All of you." 

Your cocky persona falters a bit at her words and you feel the blood rushing through your veins at the way she said them. Her voice was raw with lust, dripping with desire as she eyed you. 

"Was that so hard, baby?" You tease, resuming your previous movements with a smirk. 

"Shut up and kiss me." She huffs out, half annoyed and half amused.

"Yes ma'am." You press your lips to hers and get started on meeting her demands. 

[jjoelswatch]

I HAVE SEEN THE WAR OF THE STARS

This was a very different Star Wars movie in the best ways possible. Whether you loved it or hated it, this movie would not have been possible without SW:TLJ, full stop. Personally, I liked this movie a lot. SW:ROTS is my favorite just because it’s a) the movie that got me to like Star Wars and b) Anakin, so nothing really compares to that for me but. I think I can largely attribute what I did like about this movie to how much it reminded me of story arcs in Clone Wars or Rebels (namely Mortis, Malachor, and the World Between Worlds), with the little caveats/side quests and side characters and the focus on arcane Force powers.

What I liked:

Kylo Ren and Rey being collective badasses on two opposite spectrums of the Force. You really get the sense that as things continue to become unbalanced, the more and more their powers grow. This movie is truly a love letter to fans of both Rey and Kylo Ren, because they both have largely satisfying developments (in their powers and their character growth). I’ve never hated Kylo Ren like a lot of people do. I like his character, I think he’s - at least - cool. This movie really showcased how formidable he was right off the bat-- from Title Scroll to opening scene. And if this movie showed how powerful he was, it REALLY doubled down on how strong Rey is. More on this throughout this ramble post.

Holy Sith lore, Batman.

Rey’s training sequence was everything Luke’s training sequence in SW:TESB should have been (limited ofc by film techniques of its time); I thoroughly enjoyed it. I know a lot of people are complaining about it, since she adamantly chose not to walk the path of a Jedi, but I liked that Leia got to be her Jedi Master.

Even though it was in the trailer, Rey flipping over the Kylo’s ship and slicing the wing off with her lightsaber was rad af.

Also followed by another rad af moment of her Force pulling the ship, like damn girl.

My face when Rey used Sith lightning was one of genuine shock like holy shit. This is also when I knew the “Force bloodline” twist ahead of time. It allowed me to become (mostly) okay with it. But damn, even Kylo Ren is like “...fuck”.

AUDIBLE SIGH OF RELIEF THAT CHEWIE DIDN’T DIE. Actual personification of that one bear vine.

Former spice-runner Poe is...sexy. What a concept.

Kijimi planet sequence was really cool. It also hammered home the entire space nazi motif in a very in-your-face way, which I appreciated because I feel like people try to rationalize the Empire and First Order as not being that, when that’s literally what they are. It also introduced Zorii Bliss, who I really enjoyed.

I really liked the style of the Force bond/Force Dyad moments in this movie. We got a good handful of them in TLJ and they were cool (and confirmed to not just be Snoke causing them with that movie’s end scene), but these were better. Just the way the scenes transition and the tangible objects being transferred between them.

Her parentage reveal, the mirror of the “join me” scene from TLJ [chef’s kiss] *

General Hux being the spy really reminded me of Alexsandr Kallus being Fulcrum in SW:Rebels, except Kallus was hotter and had less petty reasons for betraying the Empire.

The space horse...tusk...creatures. I love them.

Rey and Kylo Ren’s fight on the Death Star wreckage. Finally, at long last, we get to see some prequels level Jedi flips and jumps. FINALLY!

Leia’s last sacrifice c’:

Rey striking down Kylo Ren, healing him, telling him that she had wanted to take his hand when he offered, but she’d wanted to take Ben’s hand. So perfect.

Ben and Han’s mirrored scene from the bridge scene in TFA with Kylo and Han, line for line, with the right choice made this time. Just the combined effort of his father’s memory and his mother’s sacrifice having him throw his lightsaber into the ocean, killing Kylo Ren and becoming Ben Solo once more. So emotionally satisfying. **

Also: “Dad...” “I know.” very nice callback to TESB.

Force Ghost!Luke c’: catching that lightsaber as Rey goes to throw it into the flames; nice resolution to Luke’s arc from TLJ.

LUKE AND LEIA TRAINING SCENE FLASHBACK!!

Kylo Ren’s redemption/turn to the light was something that I thought I would hate, but I actually thought it was the one consistent character arc in the sequel films. I actually enjoyed it a lot, like everything about him turning to the light was handled well and you can track its path through the entire sequel trilogy. Don’t @ me.

Ben doing the classic Han Solo No Look Shot-- with Lando’s blaster (how did he get that?)

Ben absolutely butchering the Knights of Ren wearing the space equivalent of a sweater and jeans. Just the epitome of chaotic Skywalker/Solo energy. Iconic.

Enjoyed Ben’s little shrug of “finally” when Rey used their Force bond to transfer him one of the lightsabers to use. Was sitting there watching him fight like, get this man a lightsaber.

Also, regarding that moment, just the pause within their Force bond, actually, truly seeing each other.

All the voices of the Jedi. Chills. I heard Luke, Obi-Wan, Yoda, Windu, Kanan, Anakin. Ahsoka. ***

Rey’s sacrifice. Ben’s sacrifice. For a moment, I thought they were going to kill both of them and Palpatine (which I would have hated and appreciated at once; zero it out, bring balance to the Force via a flatline), or leave Rey dead and Ben alive to be haunted by his own deeds and demons. It was a surprise that Ben could use Force healing in the way Rey displayed earlier in the film, but a good one. Thanos vc: a soul for a soul.

“Ben” c’: such a bittersweet moment of acknowledgement and redemption tbh. ****

Rey burying Luke (Anakin’s) and Leia’s sabers on Tatooine c’: *****

Rey’s yellow lightsaber made from her staff. I wonder if it’s double-bladed (I bet it is).

I had a feeling one way or another that by the end of the movie Rey would be taking the Skywalker name for herself. I’m sure this made a lot of people angry. I’m not one of them.

What I didn’t like:

Not much tbh!

The Reylo kiss I guess, since it felt shoehorned in since they were both enemies 12 hours prior (if that). It would have felt more natural if it had just been a brief embrace or (as a friend suggested) a forehead touch. I’m totally okay with Rey and Ben having this strong connection through the Force, but no matter where you stand on the idea of those characters being romantically involved, you have to admit that they just weren’t there yet to have that kiss. ******

Conflicted that the Skywalker bloodline is gone. Like, trust me, I know the point - or one of the major ones - of this film is that blood doesn’t dictate choices/blood isn’t important, but like...I really love the Skywalkers, okay?

Palpatine being alive in this pretty much invalidates Anakin’s journey in the first six episodes, which sucks because in this house we love and appreciate Anakin Skywalker. You get a sense that Palpatine’s return was definitely never the end goal for this trilogy. It doesn’t feel planned because it’s never explained how he’s back, how he survived. We’re left to assume that it’s Sith power sustaining him. We never find out how Palpatine (who’s basically a zombie, I mean, look at him) managed to create a massive fleet of Star Destroyers capable of destroying planets. That’s just how it is, deal with it.

Asterisks/Questions Unanswered/Misc.:

* Still can’t believe Rey Palpatine fan theories DID THAT. Press F to pay respects to my Rey Kenobi theories (which would have made more sense with a Force bond but WHATEVER).

** This is where I would have wanted Anakin’s Force Ghost moment to be, especially since Kylo Ren idolized the ideal of Vader for so long, I felt it would have been a nice touch to have Anakin step in here, while across the galaxy Rey is being reached out to by Luke. Ultimately though, I think Han worked best.

*** Look, I know Ahsoka’s voice was in the past Jedi/Force Ghost moment, but like...my girl ain’t dead. Togruta live for over 200+ years, plus she was resurrected with the power of The Daughter. She just Force Skyped in to give Rey an inspirational line. Also Ahsoka is...not a Jedi, so ? interesting.

On that note, the above scene also reminds me 100% of Ezra’s moment in The World Between Worlds.

**** Really wish redemption didn’t always have to mean death, but I also understand that just like in ROTJ with Vader, there was a slim-to-none chance of a future for Ben after doing everything he’d done. But I also think death is...an easy out, when you don’t want to think about how a character can continue to atone for their deeds. I would have liked to see Ben live.

***** As for burying Luke and Leia’s sabers in the sands of Tatooine, Luke never associated himself with Anakin’s saber, so she buried Anakin’s saber in a place he hated and associated with so much pain and loss.

****** Reylo has never really been a ship I sailed, though I’ve never expressly hated it (there are certainly far more uncomfortable scenes with Anakin and Padma in AOTC than there have been between Rey and Kylo Ren in the sequel films), but if one of them is going to die, don’t have them kiss. If you’re going to have them kiss, let them live.

Finn never really did get to tell Rey what he wanted to tell her, huh? I joke. I think it’s obvious by the final act of the movie that he wanted to tell her that he could feel the Force, that he’s Force sensitive. This was hinted at in TFA during several beats (especially when he fights Kylo Ren-- anyone can use a lightsaber, but it’s kinda curious that he could hold his own for a bit).

This movie radiates a bi energy in ways I can’t describe. All the stuff with Poe being real concerned about what Finn wanted to tell Rey when he thought they were going to die? Poe and Zorii? Finn and Jannah? Poe and Rey? Really can’t believe they cut away before Finn and Poe kissed in the end celebration scene.

Ben Solo > Kylo Ren

[cherry-interlude]

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey Lyric Breakdown

Lyric breakdown restarts

(I like you a lot)

Lana’s voice sounds distant, which almost as if she is trying to keep her feelings hidden or quiet to not reveal that she likes this person who is “going”, so instead she is the one who ‘plays them like guitars’ and isn’t vulnerable

Putting on my music while I’m watching the boys

Lana may be listening to her own music, since she has put a lot of herself into it which includes songs about people who leave her and betray her, hence she relates to her own music more than favoured singers; Lana is just distantly “watching the boys”, so she doesn’t have a particular person in her life (since this person left her), and may look like she isn’t bothered by anyone, yet the quieter lyrics such as “I like you a lot” and “so I do what you want” show she feels differently about it

(So I do what you want)

Lana, despite singing that she is “sent to destroy” and she ‘plays them like guitars’, shows her vulnerability by saying that she’ll do what this person wants, much like how the opening lyric shows she actually does like this person a lot rather than being distant throughout the rest of the song; these quieter lyrics sound like her thoughts and how she feels truly but she continues, with the lower vocals being her ‘spoken’ feelings that she tells people

Singing soft grunge just to soak up the noise

Lana has songs that are categorically ‘soft grunge’, though she may be singing of her influences, and using this music to ignore the “noise” of people passing by within the song

(Blue Ribbons on ice)

Lana sung about this brand of lager before in This Is What Makes Us Girls, which shows this song is a maturer look at the track from her first album

Play them like guitars, you're like one of my toys

Lana sings that though these people leave her she still has the upper hand and ‘plays them like guitars’, as if she is just getting whatever she wants out of them without feeling anything else, and this person is just another person she is impersonally using without emotion

(Cause I like you a lot)

No holds barred, I’ve been sent to destroy, yeah

Lana lets listeners throughout the song feel she is not emotional like in many songs where she is hurt by people but instead taking control of herself and is “sent to destroy” by not feeling sad, though there is still an echo of that despite Lana’s careless overtones

Pink flamingos always fascinated me

Lana is possibly using the “pink flamingos” to give imagery but it is also a metaphor for people who can stand on one leg and be independent rather than needing support, which may show that Lana never felt that she was independent to people and instead admired them for lack of dependency unlike what she portrays in music

I know what only the girls know

Lana feels she understands the “girls” which are likely from This Is What Makes Us Girls, and they all are familiar in the way they live their lives such as “watching the boys” rather than being in a settled situation; this shows that like the first song, this is more of a track about the kinship of women who fail in relationships instead of being actually about relationships, and it honours that type of life by making it about Lana’s reaction to people leaving rather than like the rest of the songs

Hoes with lies akin to me

Lana is saying that she is a “hoe” like those “girls”, and they all live life the same way - though she uses it positively compared to the connotations - and they all are “akin” since they all are dishonest, most likely to protect themselves

I, I see you're going

So I play my music, watch you leave

Lana doesn’t do what she does in the other songs, which is get emotional and try and make people stay, but instead just turns to her own music - healing with Lana - and watches, which shows she is not emotionally invested really instead of being focused on relationships in her other music

CHORUS

Velveteen and living single

Lana considers the way she lives life as “velveteen”, which is imitation velvet, which shows that though it seems luxurious on the outside it isn’t necessarily real, so she doesn’t feel she is living and honest or fulfilling life, particularly as she sung before of having everything but still seeking within her music

It never felt that right to me

I know what only the girls know

Lana’s repeats of the previous lyrics about the “girls” show that they are consistent in her life the same way they were in This Is What Makes Us Girls, and it shows she may not be living in a way that doesn’t ‘feel that right’ but she still has these other people in a similar way as her who she feels connected to and isn’t alone because Lana always has them

Lies can buy eternity

Lana is saying that rather than trying to be an open and honest person, she is still someone who is “velveteen” and either “lies” to literally “buy eternity” with people to have a relationship or to herself to imagine her life is the way she wants it to be rather than the way she feels it is now in her music

I, I see you leaving

Lana sings these lyrics in a different way to the first pre-chorus, which shows it may be another person who is leaving and though they are repeating the same action they are someone different to her, showing there are different people in this song

So I push record and watch you leave

Lana shows that instead of trying to make this person stay, she passively ‘watches’ them go and pushes “record” to do the music about the experience, though it could also be that Lana literally wants to “push record” in order to keep the experience in her mind rather than just putting it into a song

CHORUS

Live to love you

Lana is singing this much like a chant or a mantra, so she may be telling herself this because she believes she should spend her life only there to be ‘loving’ of this person, and the way she makes the words repetitive shows she feels strongly about the idea of ‘loving’ whilst also making the words sound similar, so her entire ‘life’ is about that emotion

And I love to love you

And I live to love you, boy

Live to love you

And I love to love you

And I live to love you, boy

Nothing gold can stay

Lana knows that everything that is good will eventually leave, as she has experienced it many times before, so though she admires everything “gold” she doesn’t try to hold onto it, whilst also using it in her music

Like love or lemonade

Lana considers both in this lyric to be similar, as she enjoys both but knows “nothing gold can stay”, so the way people consume lemonade is the same as her with these people who leave and inspire her music

Or sun or summer days

Lana likes this time of the year but she knows they go away, which underlines the lyric of how “nothing gold can stay” and how the “gold” sun leaves like the previous lyric

It's all a game to me anyway

Lana sings that the way she considers everything to be a “game”, much like how she ‘plays her guitars’ and rather than feeling emotion she just looks at is as something to do when she’s bored, which shows she is using a stronger type of personality for this song

CHORUS

Putting on my music while I’m watching the boys

Putting on my music while I’m watching the boys

I like requests

[harry-writings]

You’re Anorexic

*Trigger warning 

A/N: This was a very difficult piece for me to write. Please keep in mind that I am no professional and, by any means, mean no offense to anybody with eating disorders. If any part of this imagine is offensive or taken personally, please message me.

If you are suffering through something this fatal, please contact help as soon as possible. 

- masterlist linked in bio

Time.

It’s a funny concept for Y/n. Between every hour and every minute of the day, there lays a purpose. Every second counts, whether it determines the rest of your life or destroys what’s left of it. For those, time goes quickly or barely passes at all- has no beginning nor end.

It’s relied heavily on, because we all die one day or another, unexpectedly or anticipated, and if a second of time is wasted, it haunts us until our dying days.

Time is the one true consistency in everyone’s life.

When Y/n was younger, time meant everything. She counted the days till her birthday, counted down the seconds to the new year, and dated every special event she could think of. She believed that every second of her life mattered so greatly, that everything she had once known could change in a blink of an eye. Days were filled with bliss, anticipation for what the future held for her. Because she wasn’t getting any younger, and all she could think about how she was one second- a millisecond, even- away from her life giving her a new purpose.

It wasn’t until summer of 2012 when all of her greatest expectations were destroyed in a blink of an eye.

Y/n lost her father.

It happened so suddenly, an unexpected collision during the early hours of the morning. Y/n was home at the time, locked away in her room because she had an argument with him earlier on that night. Because the money situation was tight, it was impossible for Y/n to attend her top choice university. She insisted that she’d take out loans from the bank and pay every bit of tuition herself, but he refused.

She felt as if all her time and effort has been wasted. Of course, there were other schools, but Y/n was too stubborn and so set on attending this university that they didn’t matter half as much as the one she worked for.

She spewed out words she didn’t mean, anger and frustration boiling up inside of her. She had worked so hard for this moment- had worked so hard to make her parents and herself proud, but it all blew up in her face. She had never been so upset before, and it was the first time in a while she started to raise her voice and cry to try and get her way. She would have done anything, even if it meant insulting her father.

He pleaded for her to settle down, because no matter where she ended up, she’d always make him proud. But she wasn’t having it.

“I never want to talk to you again.”

Of course she didn’t mean it, but she just felt so betrayed. And because of how sensitive she was, she knew the grudge she was holding against him was going to last a while.

Already late for his meeting, he sighed and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead, the way he always did whenever they were in an argument. It was to show that he still loved her, that he’ll always love her, even when times seemed rough.

“I’m so sorry, love bug. We’ll discuss this with your mother once I get back from my meeting."

It wasn’t until a couple hours later her mom called her.

She was sobbing, her words jumbled and breath so harsh Y/n could barely understand a word she was saying. All she managed to hear was “your father” and “car accident,” and it was all she needed to understand that her father hadn’t made it. He was never going to come back home.

Y/n spent the next couple of months trying to cope with his loss. She didn’t understand what it meant to lose somebody forever, she never experienced that kind of pain before. It was too much for her, living without her father and watching her mother slowly turn into a lifeless woman.

The only way to cope with all of the pain was to stop eating.

She didn’t know exactly how it helped, but it did. She saw it as a punishment against herself, for saying such horrible things to her father and having him believe she truly never wanted to speak to him again. She didn’t blame herself for his loss, but she carried a horrendous amount of guilt upon herself. So, she began to skip meals, which wasn’t hard because she could barely stomach the thought of food while she was as depressed as she was. And what started off as a coping mechanism turned into something much more fatal.

Now, time means nothing to her, filled with an empty void. Every minute is another minute of being alone- another minute closer to her end. She sits, stares at the wall clock hung perfectly in Ms. Carter’s office, and watches as it passes with every breath she takes.

“Y/n..” Ms. Carter mumbles, looking down at her watch to calculate just how much time has been wasted since their session began.

“Are you ever going to speak?” she questions with an exasperated sigh, long past her patience because all of their recent sessions have consisted of unanswered questions and the same dismal look displayed on Y/n’s face.

Y/n makes no effort to answer her. Her legs stay crossed indian-style in front of her, picking at a hangnail that’s been bothering her the past couple of days. She hasn’t moved since the appointment started, staying in the same position as Ms. Carter asked her questions Y/n was hardly paying attention to.

She’s well aware she’s wasting Ms. Carter’s time. She could be guiding other clients toward the help they need, or simply listening to someone’s troubles other than the horns honking outside and the agonizing sound of the clock ticking further toward the next hour.

Hell, she’s even convinced that she’d be wasting her own time, as well, if it weren’t for the emptiness in her heart. This is the only place Y/n has somebody. Everyone in her life left her, unable to deal with the constant struggle of her eating disorder. Her family, friends, boyfriends; all of them had left her. What was once an attempt to help Y/n recover from her disorder turned into a part time job for them; a constant occupation in their lives to deal with her.

If it was their choice, they probably would have left sooner than they did. But they all gave her pity, only remaining in her life because they felt another person leaving her would push her to the edge- would push her into something far more fatal. Some left without a word, others left with a rehearsed speech about how they didn’t want to see her suffer, that they couldn’t bare the sight of her bones sticking from her body. They couldn’t help her anymore, because they didn’t understand, and they barely have their own lives figured out, so how could they figure out hers? They finished their speeches with a sympathetic apology, saying that they’d still be there for her if she needed them. But they didn’t mean it. She knew they didn’t mean it.

A year and a half into her disorder, with nobody by her side, with not a soul left to help her recover, someone saved her.

Harry.

When he started to get to know her- to listen to her story- he had never felt more remorse for somebody the way he had with her. Such a beautiful and sweet woman has been torturing herself for years all because of the amount of guilt she had at such a young age. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she’s been through, all the pain and hardship she’s endured throughout er life.

She was so lovely, as well, he fell in love with her the moment she started opening up to him. It was easy for the both of them, to talk to one another, simply because there was instant connection none of them could deny. They fit into each other’s lives perfectly, as if filling up the emptiness they both had.

Harry dedicated every part of his life to her, with not a single complaint hanging from his lips. He loved her in ways nobody else had loved her before. He showed it by staying with her, through all the horrible battles she faced. He was patient with her, putting up with her fight against food and reassuring her when she wanted to throw it all up. He was there every step toward her recovery and every step toward her relapses.

It took a long while for her to finally recover. She was eating again; she was healthy again. Her skin glowed with an olive undertone, hair so soft Harry found it irresistible not to touch. Her once twisted thoughts altered to an optimistic mindset. The once beautiful girl he once known developed into an ethereal woman, convinced he was going to spend the rest of his faithful life with her.

If it weren’t for Harry, she wouldn’t have recovered. When he came into her life, she made every promise to herself and to Harry that she would overcome this. She’d continue her battle for them, because she now had a reason to fight. Her love for Harry pushed her to be the woman she became. He changed her- he saved her.

But a year into her recovery, something changed between them.

Something changed in him.

She never felt his love like she used to. He was barley there for her. When he’d come home from work, he wouldn’t call out for her anymore. Even though they were together, she began to feel lonely again. Y/n was convinced he had stopped loving her. She stayed up countless nights, without him, wondering what she did wrong. He didn’t hold her anymore, not like he used to. Before, he’d always hold her, because his arms were her sanctuary and his chest was a bed made specially for her head. His lips only lingered on her cheek or forehead, not in the way they used to. Before, he’d always kiss her lips, because he said he swore his lips were compelled to love hers and said he was always hungry for her love. She fell asleep feeling empty, not in the way she had before. Before, amongst falling asleep, he’d be inside of her, hips colliding with hers because he praised her, and said he’d never love the way he loved her.

But it all ended so suddenly, there was no warning.

She began to feel what she felt with everyone else- neglected.

She felt it was because she recovered. When she was battling her disorder, he loved her because he felt he had to. She had nobody else. Her family had given up on her, her friends left her, and she was left with absolutely nothing. He came at a time she needed someone most. At that point, she was prepared to die, there was no helping it. He was her lifeline, her only dependency, and that’s why he had stopped loving her. He didn’t need to love her anymore.

“I- I don’t quite know what to say.” Y/n mumbles.

She wishes she could tell Ms. Carter everything about it. She wishes she could talk to her like she was supposed to; trust her and open up to her to help her with her recovery. But if she does, she knows Ms. Carter would have to take her to a rehabilitation center. And Y/n wanted absolutely nothing to do with that.

Ms. Carter nods, lips pursing as she places her notebook down of her wooden coffee table. She crosses her legs and arms, back moving to rest upon the black velvet seat she always sits in during her sessions.

“Then why do you come to me, Y/n?” she asks softly, watching as Y/n moves her eyes slowly to her. “If you don’t know what to say, why are you here?"

She shrugs, arms moving to hug her knees to her chest. She rests her chin gently on her knee cap, eyes trained on the window directly in front of her. She watches as cars move during the rush hour, people walking on the sidewalks with a premeditated destination. She envies those who thrive, for she lacks motivation to accomplish her ambitions.

“This is all I have.”

Ms. Carter blinks at her confession, interlocking her fingers together while nodding her head.

She knows Y/n has been different the past couple months. Normally, Y/n talks about her relationship with Harry, how he’s been her biggest step toward her recovery. She talked about how great she’d feel, but was, nonetheless, worried she’ll eventually relapse and disappoint him.

Ms. Carter has had suspicions that Y/n is going through another relapse. However, she knew that if she was, that Harry was by her side at home. It was one of the many reasons she hadn’t taken major actions to help her through it. She knew Harry would do her more help than her, but Y/n kept scheduling appointments that she couldn’t deny.

“And what about Harry?” She asks timidly, “Is he helping you through this time, Y/n?”

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut at his name. Her hands shake as her fingers pull down the sleeves of her sweatshirt, tugging them all the way so that her hands are completely covered by the material.

“Not anymore.” She whispers.

Y/n’s eyes divert to Ms. Carter’s cautious gaze. Her mouth is slightly parted, almost shocked at the confession she made. Ms. Carter knows the only thing that guided her was Harry. He was her rock and support through her entire fight, and with the possibility of his departure comes the possibility of Y/n going back to where it all began.

“Are you- are you still eating, Y/n?”

Her eyes go back to the window.

Another question left unanswered.

The weather outside is making Harry miserable. So miserable, in fact, he’s refused to move from his spot on the couch for the past four hours.

The house is dark for the mid-afternoon, the gloomy weather making it nearly feel like a funeral home. With no motivation to go outside and finding it oddly comfortable to wallow, he can’t help but to keep his eyes trained on the television show playing in front of him. It’s Y/n’s favorite show- one they watched nearly every Saturday afternoon because that’s when CW aired the marathon.

He still watches it every Saturday. A part of him can’t let the tradition go. He’s somehow convinced himself that maybe, just maybe, she couldn’t, either, and they are some how both watching it at the same time in two different places. Gemma tells him that she probably does the same, as well, but he should try to move on from her; that staying in the house and only doing things that remind him of her is going to edge him to insanity. But oddly, consuming his days with things that remind him of her keep him as sane as he can possibly be.

He sighs, clammy fingers tugging at the roots of his hair as he looks down at his phone for what must have been the twentieth time today. His thumb hovers over her contact number, twitching as he begins to contemplate whether to call her or not. It’s been months since he’s seen her, let alone talked to her. Every second without knowing how she’s doing kills him more and more each time.

To say Harry’s been worried is an understatement. He’s completely petrified.

For the past couple of years, Harry has been through it all with Y/n. He’s seen her at her worst, was there to witness her greatest and most disastrous downfalls and stood by her side during her most amazing recoveries. He’s seen her in all her forms of terrible glory, with bones sticking from her skin and bruises covering her arms and legs. He’s watched her as people began to leave her one by one- a bystander of a broken girl being neglected by her loved ones. He’s seen her fantasize about her end and watched as pain settled in her eyes.

And he just can’t shake the feeling that everything Y/n has built up to her recovery has been knocked down again.

He can’t stomach the thought of her looking the way she did when they first met. He doesn’t even want to think about what she’s been putting herself up against since his departure.

For the first month after their breakup, Harry had called Y/n everyday to make sure she was eating properly. He’d call her before bed, asking numerous questions about her diet and her therapy sessions. What did you eat today? How much did you eat? Was Ms. Carter nice? How are you feeling? It was a routine that was able to keep both of them sane during their separation.

It didn’t last long, however, when Y/n started to finally realize she wasn’t able to move on. Between the constant reminder that she didn’t have anybody there for her anymore and his constant phone calls, she found it impossible to move on from him.

Y/n also began to feel upset that Harry had broke things off with her but still had the audacity to call her. She understood what he was doing. She understood that he was showing her that he still cared and worried for her, but the fact that the only effort he had put into taking care of her was through a phone call made Y/n feel like a charity case.

“I just can’t do this anymore, Harry” she muttered softly to the phone, her fingers halfheartedly fiddling with the corner of the duvet, “You can’t keep calling me when we aren’t dating.”

His heart fell to the pit of his stomach. Calling her before bed was a routine to him now. Talking to her was able to keep him sane, because he was getting the reassurance he needed to know she was doing okay.

In all honesty, he didn’t know if he could go a day without talking to her. Without her updating him, he knows he’d spend every second of his day worrying about her health and how she’d be keeping up with herself.

The phone calls were also the bit of her he had left. If he were to stop calling her, all he’d have left is her empty side of the bed, and he needed more than that. He needed more of her.

“But you need to see that I still care for you, Y/n” he whispers brokenly, “that I’ll always be here to make sure you’re alright.”

“But how do you think that makes me feel?!”

Her voice was higher than usual, a tone she very rarely used with him because he never gave her a reason to be angry. But now, after him calling off their relationship but still having the audacity to call her made her sick to her stomach.

“If you still cared, if you still wanted me, you’d be with me right now! You’re not making any effort to care for me, Harry! Calling me doesn’t mean anything because you’re not here!”

He shut his eyes at her words, a pang of guilt hitting him like a ton of bricks. He would be there with her if he had a choice, but their relationship wasn’t working out in both of their favors. In the midst of her getting her life back and him settling in a new job, it was very hard for them to keep up with each other. It was especially hard for him to keep up with her because she seemed to be so content in her new life that he almost felt unwanted.

He still loved her, but he felt like she didn’t want him anymore. She had recovered because of him, and because she didn’t have to rely on him in the way he was used to, he felt useless in her life. And no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t true, that she still wanted and needed him, it still broke him apart.

“You know our relationship wasn’t working out for us and-“

“No,” she cut him off, teeth clenching out of frustration, “our relationship wasn’t working out for you. You felt no need to love me anymore, so you left me just like everybody else.”

Harry’s jaw clenches as she speaks, head thrashing wildly side to side, because it’s not true. Everything she thinks, everything he’s made her come to believe isn’t true, and he wants nothing more than to try to make her understand that he’ll always be in love with her. That he’ll always be there for her because he can’t image a day without loving her the way she deserves.

“Y/n, baby, how could you say tha-“

“You need to stop calling me,” she cries, “you’re either a part of my life or you aren’t. There’s no middle ground for you to be in. That’s not fair to me. It’s either you care for me and love me or you don’t.”

Harry’s breath was harsh against the speaker, fists clenched together as he tries to wrap his head around the situation he’s put in.

The hesitation in his answer was enough for her heart to break. The silence between her words and his answer spoke louder than anything he could possibly say to her.

She couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t surprised this is how their story ended. Everyone has already gave up on her, it was only a certain amount of time before Harry realizes how easy a life would be without her. She just didn’t want to believe it.

“I get it, Harry” she whispers, sniffling as she runs her wrist along the tip of her nose. “Goodbye."

He’s been doing this everyday, worrying and contemplating on what he should do. He wishes more than anything to be with her the way she deserved, and wishes even more that he had never left her in the first place. He knows calling her would make her angry because she’s made it clear she felt hurt every time she did so, but he also knows not calling her isn’t fair, either.

He understands how wrong it sounds to leave his anorexic girlfriend of three years, but he felt it was best for the both of them at the time. But now, after months of her out of his life with no other connections to hear from her, he realized how stupid he was to convince himself that.

He’s completely devastated without her.

Living without Y/n wasn’t living at all. The life he experienced with her was incomparable to the one he’s been experiencing without her. She’s the love of his life, she’s the woman who showed him what it truly meant to love and care for someone so much. Of course, being with her wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but loving her was. That’s what made them so real. Their relationship was filled with struggles, messes, and tears, but they were still in love with each other regardless. It was their ability to fight together that pulled them through their most difficult times.

“Jesus, Y/n.” He whispers to himself, “I’m so sorry, baby."

Harry’s thumb presses on the cancel button, letting out a shaky breath as he does so. He feels a tear slowly fall down his cheek, which he’s quick to wipe away with the back of his hand when he hears the front door swing open.

“Afternoon, H!” Gemma greets, hands filled with grocery bags as she stumbles through the front door.

“Bought us some sandwiches. Turkey chipotle sandwiches, to be exact. Figured we could just watch some shows today? The weather is a fucking disaster, it’s making me moody.”

Harry nods speechlessly, his fingers toying with his upper lip. His eyes divert to Gemma’s struggling figure for just a couple seconds before his attention is back on Y/n’s contact.

“Yeah, yeah sounds fine.” He mutters distractedly.

Gemma’s eyebrows furrow in concern over his melancholy tone, placing the grocery bags lazily on the kitchen counter before making her way toward Harry’s slumped figure.

She bites her lower lip at the look of her distraught brother, who’s clearly shown no improvement since his breakup with Y/n. She’s aware that he blames himself for their breakup and that he spends every waking hour of his day worrying about her. No matter how hard she tries to help him through this struggle in his life, there’s always a part of him that will always feel a sense of protection over her.

He’s a wreck, and no matter how many times he tries to deny it, there were numerous nights Gemma would find Harry staring at her contact during the earliest hours in the morning with helpless tears building in his eyes. She’d even hear him mutter apologies to himself, as if rehearsing a speech to say if he ever found the strength to call her.

Who could really blame him, though?

“You okay?” she asks timidly, already knowing his answer but still finding it in her heart to ask.

She would do anything for him- anything to help him. Hell, she’s tried everything. She’s tried to talk to him alone whenever she found him in his darkest hour, even made him cups of tea to help settle his brain. She bought him a journal, in hopes that writing down his feelings will help him recover in the slightest. She even scheduled him for an in-home therapy session, but every bit of her attempts never budged him. He was still the same mess of a man he has been since the day he left Y/n.

Harry looks up at her, nodding his head feverishly when he sees the concerned look on her face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he coughs, looking back down at his phone, “Just haven’t checked up on her in a while. Kinda worried."

Gemma raises her eyebrows at him, unconvinced.

“Kind of worried?” she questions, occupying the space on the couch next to him. Her hand reaches up to his forehead to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, which slowly moves to his back in attempt to relieve his tense muscles.

“You’re sweating.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, his hand reaching to the back of his neck. He nods his head, lips pursing together as he tries to hold back the emotions he’s feeling.

“I feel like she stopped eating and it’s just- it’s just something I can’t stop thinking about, you know? I can’t live in peace when it’s all my head wanders off to.”

Gemma nods her head, her fingers squeezing the skin of his shoulder as a way to reassure that she’s here for him.

She feels awful about how much blame Harry’s been putting on himself the past couple of months. It’s beginning to take a major toll on him, he can barely include himself in day-to-day activities without getting lost in his thoughts. His once well-put-together form has seemed to turn effortless, not cared for in the way it once was. He’s become so disconnected,, she can’t deny the overwhelming concern she's had for him for the past couple of months.

“I’m sure she’s okay, Harry. I’m sure she’s still checking in with Ms. Carter and working on herself. She’s a strong woman, you and I both know that. Strongest woman we’ve ever met. She’ll be okay.”

She leans over to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“And if she isn't doing well, she would have called you by now.”

But Harry is having none of it. He knows that if she’s relapsing, she wouldn’t have called him. She wouldn’t have called anyone. He knows she feels like he doesn’t care about her anymore- feels like she’s the last thing on his mind. If she were to call him, she’d feel like she was a burden on his life, and that was the last thing she’d want. He knows that.

But if only she knew. If only she knew he can’t sleep at night because all he can think about is betraying the woman he loves, leaving her to fight by herself. Hell, if only she knew he can’t touch his phone without constantly going back to her contact trying to muster up the strength to call her and ask her how she’s doing.

“I was her reason to eat. If she stopped eating, it’s because of me.”

“No,” Gemma shakes her head, reaching her hands up to grab his face to ensure she was looking at him in the eyes, “You can’t put that much responsibility on yourself like that, she had plenty of reasons to recover. None of this would be your fault.”

He shakes his head, gripping the sides of his head as if trying to remain as calm as he possibly can. He wouldn’t be shocked if he lost all of his remaining sanity in his moment.

“I was literally all she had, Gem.” he spits, all the anger and frustration he’s held against himself now unleashing. All the contained emotions he’s been feeling, all the loathing he’s been trying to ignore, is all unraveling inside of him to the point where he feel like he can’t breathe.

“My existence, our future, that’s what she recovered for. Not a second of her recovery was for anybody or anything else.” He rants, breathing harsh as the thoughts rush through his brain. “She had nobody except for me. She didn’t have any friends, any family. She wasn’t fighting when I met her. She was waiting to die..”

“Harry...”

“And I did what I promised her I wouldn’t do and…and now I-"

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to be with her, Harry.” Gemma blinks, shaking her head softly as she reaches to remove his hands from his head, “If you didn’t love her anymore, you didn’t have a choice."

“But I do love her” he defends, shaking his head, “I’ve always loved her. We had to break up because our relationship wasn’t easy at that time, but hell, Gem, that doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving her.”

He sighs, rubbing his sweaty hands over his face.

Tears fall slowly down his face, soaking his cheeks as he inhales sharply. God, how much he fucking loves her, is what kills him the most.

“Me, helping her recover, of course that was a plus. I helped her get out of her anorexia, Gem. I never gave up on her, but I did once she recovered. That’s not fair, I still love her so much. I don’t know what to do anymore."

Gemma frowns, slowly leaning toward him so that she can softly wrap her arms around his shoulders. She buries her cheek against his shoulder, thumb rubbing delicate circles on his back.

“I think you know what to do, H.”

Once Y/n’s appointment ended, she found herself curled up in her bed as the sounds of Harry’s mixtape played quietly throughout the room. It was a tape he made for her when they first started dating, something sentimental for her to hold onto whenever he wasn’t able to be there.

She’s been listening to it almost everyday since the breakup. She’d listen to it mindlessly, whether she was staring at wall or she was listening to it on her way to therapy. It was the only thing in her life that made her feel something; the pure value of it holding so much meaning. The music was the closest she’s been to Harry in a while, so it was her sanctuary.

She sighs, her fingers lightly grazing the window that drips with rain. In her loneliest hours, Y/n wants nothing more than to make her way over to him. She doesn’t quite know how she’s made it so long without him. In all honesty, she expected her to have given up and walk up to his door and beg him for his help. She knows she’s suffering, her body weak and starving the more she refuses to eat. But, to her, she has no reason to. Every bit of love she had for herself and every purpose she had to continue living has all dissolved into nothing.

She shakes her head, unwrapping herself from the blankets she raveled herself in before her bare feet made contact with the cold floor. She decides to go for a walk, or maybe just go out on her front porch to get some fresh air. She thinks it’ll be good for her, after all, she doesn’t have anything else to do besides stay cooped up in her four walls and listen to disgusting love songs.

The second she stood up from the bed, she nearly fell onto the floor. Her head spins and feels obnoxiously light when she begins to stand up properly. It wasn’t rare for her to feel lightheaded whenever she moved too quickly, however, this was the most intense it has been. Holding herself onto the wall, she waits until she feels back to her normal self before making her way down toward her living room.

Her fingers immediately press against her temples when she makes it to her foyer. Her head spins wildly with every step she takes, making her lose her balance once she reaches the last step. Her head hits against the floor, a groan leaving her chapped lips as her body begins to tremble. Her eyes cloud with darkness for a few moments at a time before she regains her consciousness, her sight fogged and lightheaded as she tries to pick herself up off the floor.

“No” she mumbles, coughing as she rushes to reach for her phone.

“No, no, no.”

This has happened to her before. It happened years ago, though, when she hasn’t consumed anything for weeks. The only difference is that she had someone there to save her before. Thankfully, her mom was there at the time and rushed to her rescue. When she made it to the hospital, they said she was near her end. If she had went a couple more hours without consumption, she wouldn’t have been able to make it.

But now, she has nobody.

Her breathing becomes harsh as her body keeps losing consciousness. There’s only a certain amount of time she has before she fades out entirely, and no matter how much she’s tried to convince herself that she’s been ready for this moment, she has never been more scared for her life.

Her shaking fingers reach for her phone in her back pocket. She has to do something and has to do it quick. If she dies like this, nobody would be out looking for her, nobody would find her body. She’d be stuck in this house as her body decays into nothing but bone.

She decides that this isn’t how she’s going to die, because if this is the day her end finally nears, she’d want to spend her last dying breaths with the one person she feels something for.

Harry.

She whimpers, weak fingers punching in his phone number. Every part of her wants him to answer- needs him to answer, because he’s her last bit of hope and she doesn’t plan on leaving it all behind. But a part of her wouldn’t blame him for not answering. After all, she was the one who dropped him from her life completely, which was, quite honestly, the stupidest thing she’s ever done in her life. She practically pushed him away entirely, even when he was still there for her. Even when he still held onto her and cared for her like nobody else has.

And she can’t die knowing that.

“Y/n?”

Y/n swears hearing his voice is everything she needs in this moment.

Seeing her name light up on his phone makes Harry spring out of bed, his hands gripping the phone closer to his ear, as if trying to get closer to her. It’s been too long since he’s talked to her, and he’s convinced he can’t allow himself to waste another minute without hearing her voice again.

But no matter how much he wishes she was calling because she missed him, too, he just can’t seem to shake the feeling that the only reason she called is because she’s in trouble.

“Harry” she heaves groggily.

Her eyes are clouded, the room spinning around her. She can barely move, only the ghostly movements of her lips and the subtle rise and fall of her chest. She’s lightheaded, feeling cold and utterly weightless as her body lays faint on the carpeted floor beneath her.

“Y/n” Harry breathes out, slightly confused and partially in awe at the sound of her voice, “are you okay? I was gonna come by later. Been worried about you.”

“I keep fading out” she whimpers, her eyes closing longly each passing second, “I’m gonna die.”

Harry’s face pales the second he hears the struggling in her voice.

Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. It’s as if the world has stopped revolving around him, his only concern being Y/n and her safety. With her shaking voice filled with fear; it feels as if every one of Harry’s greatest fears are all coming to haunt him all at once. Y/n’s in a great amount of danger, all because of him, and he might not be able to save her in time.

In a matter of a second, working so quickly Harry doesn’t seem to fully keep up with his actions, he’s stumbling down his stairs and at his front door, holding his car keys shakingly in his hands. He doesn’t even bother putting on a pair of shoes or a jacket before he’s rushing toward his car.

“Y/n…Y/n, you have listen to me very carefully.” he pants, slightly tripping over his own two feet before regaining balance. "You have to hang up the phone and dial the police before i-”

“I- I can’t, Harry” she chokes out, interrupting him because she doesn’t know how much longer she can make it. “I’m so weak. I can’t move.”

Harry’s moving wildly once he sits down in the car. His hands are shaking so harshly it takes him a couple seconds to push the keys in the ignition, causing frantic mumbles of c’mon, c’mon, c’mon to leave his quivering lips.

“Fucking shit!” he spits, putting the car in reverse and stepping on the pedal so hard he’s convinced his car will be wrecked by the time he gets to her. But he doesn’t care, not at all.

He puts his car in drive and swerves onto the road, breaking the speed limit by an extra 30 miles an hour. His teeth clench together as his hand wraps tightly around the stirring wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white as he steps down on the pedal harder.

No matter what speed he goes, he has this inevitable fear that he isn’t going to make it to her on time. He feels he has no time- that she has no time- and no matter how badly he wishes he can stay talking to her to ensure that she’ll be okay by the time he reaches her, he knows it isn’t her safest option. He has to risk it, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“You gotta give me two minutes, love. I’m putting you on hold for two minutes so that I can send someone over to you. Do not hang up on me, you hear me? You stay with me. Gimme two minutes.”

He doesn’t give her any time to reply before he puts her on hold. His fingers are rapid as he calls the police, the fingers that are gripping onto the steering wheel tapping along the leather as he waits for the operator to answer.

“What’s your-"

“My girlfriend, please,” he rushes out before the woman can finish, "she’s home alone and she keeps fading in and out of consciousness. I need you to bring someone over to her house please.”

He doesn’t notice how fast he’s speaking until the operator begins to ask him to calm down and repeat himself.

“Do you know any information in regards to her unconsciousness?”

“Yes,” he swallows thickly, “she’s anorexic."

“What’s the address, sir?”

“168 Williamson Drive.”

“The police are on their way.”

He hangs up with the operator before switching back to Y/n’s contact.

"Y/n, baby, you still there?”

Her body jolts when she hears his voice from the speaker, breath hitching in her throat as she grips onto her phone tighter. She swears, if it isn’t for Harry being on the other line, she would have given up by now. Knowing he’s coming back to her keeps her fighting against her body, which is on the brink of blacking out for God knows how long.

“How much-“ she whimpers as she speaks, eyes slowly closing, “how much longer?”

His eyes wander wildly to the roads ahead of him. He isn’t far from her now, just a couple more turns until he’s in her neighborhood. Working quickly, his foot absentmindedly presses harder against the gas pedal, switching lanes to avoid the cars that are getting in his way.

“Shit, baby, you gotta give me five more minutes. I just need a bit more time and I’ll be there with you.”

The five minutes feels like forever.

Between Y/n’s soft crying and Harry’s continuously worried questions, Y/n had already fallen out of consciousness three times. She isn’t positive on how she is able to wake up each time, but she is. Every time she wakes up, Harry is calling her name desperately through the phone, reassuring her that he was going to be there as soon as he possibly can and help make sure she stays safe. However, Y/n is almost completely positive she is going to die. She had put her body through so much for far too long, she doesn’t know how many times her body can keep recovering just to relapse again. Her health was constantly fluctuating between the most drastic lows and highs, there is no possible way it has any more strength to push her through this last fight. There is just no way.

Harry doesn’t have time to turn off his car before he’s rushing toward her front door. His sweating hands slip off the doorknob on his first attempt to open her door, but is quick to rebuttal when he storms inside her house. It’s dark, only a small amount of light illuminating the foyer as his eyes wildly search for her.

She’s collapsed onto the floor. Her skin as pale as he’s ever seen it, her fragile body shivering and shaking against the hardwood floor. Her body looks broken, in a way. It looks lifeless as she helplessly tries to muster any atom in her body to keep fighting for her survival. Her loose clothes didn’t hide how weak her body has become within the past couple of months. There’s still a drastic, evident change in her body frame since he’s last seen her. And if he has to be honest, it makes him feel sick to his stomach, to see the love of his life like this.

And the only thing he can think about is how this is all his fault. He caused all of this, not any of this would be happening if he hadn’t left her the way he did. Instead, they could be getting married, living in their dream home together, cooking on the kitchen stove and listening to their favorite music together. They could be happy together.

But everything is because of him. There is nobody else to blame besides him and his selfishness. He left her, alone, in her most disastrous condition and nothing about what he did is okay, not when she’s like this.

“Baby” he cries, falling to his knees beside her.

He begins to sob as he lifts her up from the floor. He cradles her against him, her head laying perfectly on his chest as his arms wrap security around her waist. He nuzzles his face into her hair, his strong cries raking through him as he holds her tighter against him.

She feels cold, much different than her usual warm touch. She feels so light, too, and so weak as he grabs onto her like she’s his life line.

It’s been too long- way too long since he’s held her so close. It feels as if this is the first time he’s finally able to breathe, to not feel so suffocated in his heartbreak over losing the love of his life. He’s with her now, and maybe not in the best way possible, but he’s with her and it’s the biggest step to help them overcome this. Together.

Her fingers brush against his neck, her cheek rubbing against his chest as she whimpers against him.

Her head spins and her eyes fog as he holds her to him, making it nearly impossible for her to keep up with her consciousness. All she can think is how good it feels, to be with him in her weakest moment. She feels the most alive, even in her time closest to death, being wrapped in his arms and being peppered by his kisses. She feels the safest she’s ever been, and in this moment, for the first time in a while, she truly feels like everything is going to be okay.

“Don’t leave me, please” she whispers, “please don’t leave again."

His heart breaks when he feels her tears soak through his t-shirt as the words she speaks crack in her voice.

He’d never leave her, never in his wildest dreams would he think about leaving her again. He can’t live another day without her, and he’ll stop at nothing to make sure she gets the ending she deserves.

“Oh, my love” he whimpers, placing a delicate kiss upon her forehead, “I’m so sorry, my love. Help is on its way, okay? You’re with me now, you’re safe. I’ve got you."

He leans down to kiss her shaking lips, running his hands through her hair as he lets out another broken sob.

“You’re safe now."