#itsjustowenl

[sebflxres-blog]

[text] I just hate that someone could make me trust them [*1558*] the way that I did

[6:34pm]: you need a drink buddy?? [6:34pm]: i know it’s early but[6:35pm]: we can talk you can spill the tea i’m pretty curious

[alaricsummerfield]

[drunk text] Can you pls remind me tomorrow of how much of a fool I made myself tonight

[text] absolutely! I snapped it all, dw.[text] I’ll even save it for you, it’ll be a life milestone, play it at your wedding. 8)

[romantaylorwest-blog]

[text] I’ll be there in five minutes.

[ text ]: i hope u brought me starbucks 

[ text ]: i’m dying of caffeine withdrawal save me

[jtoyoshima-blog]

[drunk text] I’m eating macaroni and cheese on a slice of pizza and autocorrect just wrote that text for me pretty much, what’s your night like

[drunk text] I’m eating macaroni and cheese on a slice of pizza and autocorrect just wrote that text for me pretty much, what’s your night like

[text ➝ owen mowin’]: it was better before you made me read that[text ➝ owen mowin’]: that sounds so disgusting why would you desecrate pizza like that

[sebflxres-blog]

⌛

⌛: the voicemail my muse leaves on your phone when your muse hasn’t been heard from for the fifth night this week

In Seb’s professional opinion, it was healthy to disappear from college for a few days. Didn’t everyone do it? The school, however, had a different idea. Owen’s adviser, a professor, had called Seb to inform him that it’d been days since his freshman mentee had been in any classes. Seb, being the young and relatable connection to the boy, was expected to reach out to him. 

So here he was, leaning against the brick wall of the science building and waiting for the message tone to sound. 

Beep.

“Hey, uh, you haven’t been in class for over a week?” Seb watched a group of boys across the street, all of them struggling to show off tricks on their skateboards. “This is Seb, by the way. Do you have my number? I dunno. Hey, listen, if you’re gonna miss class at least make it something fun. I bet you’re holed up in your room playing video games. We should go party instead. I mean, I’m supposed to tell you to come back to class--I think? But you should try getting drunk at a club on a Wednesday night; it’s a new level of depressing pastime.”

“Call back when you can,” Seb wrapped it up, “make sure you have one hell of an excuse as to why you haven’t been around.”

[pembrcke-blog]

☏

☏: my muse’s reaction to getting a phone call from the hospital about your muse

“Owen? Is everything okay?”

Forest has been surprised when he had gotten the call. He and Owen were work friends, they had a few classes — they weren’t close. They had a couple conversations, and Forest got the feeling that there was something else Owen was looking for from him — something he wasn’t ready to ask about, or didn’t feel comfortable. As a good Christian and a good friend, Forest was happy to wait, and would be happy to listen when Owen was ready. Still, they weren’t close — and this was not the kind of call he was expecting.

“The hospital? Oh my gosh, Owen, are you alright?” There was something terribly familiar about Owen’s shaky call, hushed whispers and apologetic tone — Forest had been in that position too many times, caught somewhere bad with no one he could trust to call, just casual friends and teachers that didn’t even like him that much. His heart sank into his stomach just thinking about it. How alone was this boy? How much help did he need?

In that moment, he felt he had caught Owen. He was not just a quiet, coffee-acidic co-worker. He was a jagged edge of a boy who needed a soft touch and a caring word.

Forest liked having purpose, and Owen felt like purpose. Even though it was a little horrible to think, Owen was a bit like a project, wasn’t he? Someone to save. In that moment, Forest decided his mission: be the person Owen could call with confidence, or find someone even better. He could help — he had to. He didn’t deserve a good future (hanging over his head like both a promise and a threat) if he didn’t extend that kindness to others. Owen — such a convenient place to start, falling into his lap like this.

“No, no, don’t worry — no, you’re not bothering me, this isn’t a bother at all. Tell me what you need. Someone to pick you up? Anything. Really, Owen, I want to help.”