things i do on winter break

Things to Do When You Can’t Seem to Write

Are the words just not coming? Try getting away from the screen for a few minutes.

Do Something Productive

  • Take care of the dishes – load or unload your dishwasher, or wash a sinkfull by hand. If you have to leave any to soak, try writing for a few minutes while they do.
  • Put away that basket of laundry you’ve been ignoring.
  • Clean your bathroom sink.
  • Put away any shoes, jackets, or other outerwear you left lying around.

Do Something Fun

  • Write/draw/paint in your journal, if you have one. Do a page, then try writing again.
  • Read a chapter of your current book.
  • Set a timer for five or ten minutes and play a simple game that will let your mind disengage–my go-to is Spider Solitaire.
  • Call/Skype/text a friend and have a chat for a few minutes.

Make Your Writing Space More Pleasant

  • Straighten up your desk. Throw out any scraps of paper that have served their purpose, but check to make sure you’re not tossing out story notes! Dust the surface off, and put away anything that belongs somewhere else.
  • Light a candle.
  • Get a glass of water, or make yourself tea or coffee.

Take Care of Yourself

  • Grab a small snack if you’re hungry.
  • Are your hands dry? Mine get terrible in winter. Moisturize!
  • Lips, too –grab that lip balm.
  • Feeling sluggish? Take a short walk or do some jumping jacks to get your energy level up.
  • Feeling grungy? Take a shower. “Inspirational” showers are my favorite, I get so many ideas in there.

If one of these doesn’t break you from your funk, try one from another category to switch things up. And if you still don’t find your writing mojo, maybe you need a longer break, or to pack it in for the day. Just remember, working hard is great, but forcing yourself to write can burn you out, so keep yourself in balance!

Voltron but as things my family and friends have said/done

Part 2 right Here!


Shiro walks in and hears a crash from above: “What did you guys break now?” 

Pidge: That was the sound of my crashing hopes and dreams, Shiro! Hopes *Dramatic pause* and dreams…


Lance sitting across from Keith at a lunch table: If I put this butter in your hair, will you be mad at me?

Keith: *Throws applesauce at Lance*


Pidge looking at Coran’s Shoes: Why are you wearing socks with sandals?

Coran: Because it is Winter.


Hunk braiding Allura’s hair: Wow, it’s really soft, how do you do that?

Allura, very seriously: I dip it in the blood of my demons.

*Hunk lets go of the hair.*


*Lance singing along with a song on the computer*

Shiro: Can you quiet down, please?

*Lance puts headphones in his computer but continues to sing at the top of his lungs.*


Coran looking at baby pictures with Allura: Awe, look at you right here!

*Allura taking the picture from his hand and running off with it*: NO ONE SHALL EVER SEE THIS! IT WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY!


Lance walking past Pidge: Whats up, Garbage?

Pidge: Nothing much, Trash.


Lance driving the car: Oh look Keith, cows!

*Keith glances at the cows then notices the cars about to swerve off the road*: LANCE!!!

*Lance straightens the car, avoiding the ditch*: What we were just going to go see the cows! *Laughs*

Keith: WE WERE GOING TO GO SEE JESUS!


Matt from inside the bathroom: Katie, can you come help me?

*Katie cautiously opening the bathroom door*:  What do you need my help with in there?

*Katie sees Matt covered in bubbles in the bathtub as the bubbles grow taller and tower over his head and spill over the tub*: 

Matt: The jets made them grow!! Help!!!

*Katie slowly closing the door*: I guess you could say your ‘Naked and Afraid!


*Acxa see Lotor messing with something by his locker*: Hey, what are you-

*Ezor is squished in the locker and Lotor is laughing uncontrollably*

Ezor: I wanted to see if I’d fit… I think I’m stuck guys!


*Hunk and Pidge out for lunch*

*Pidge drops a hot piece of Pizza on her legs*: Oh Mother F-

*Hunk motions at the Mother and child at the table next to them*

*Pidge under her breath*: Froot loops


*The team playing dodge ball*

*Keith trips and stumbles into Lance*: Sorry, so sorry!

Lance: Awe, you’re blushing!

*Shiro hitting Lance with a dodge ball*: Yes! Good job, Keith! Keep distracting the enemy!


Yeah, I thought it would be fun to put the weird things that the people I care about do, and mix it with my favorite show… *softly* what have I done?

You all should really follow politics more.

To preface, I live in Covington, LA which is in the deep south just north of New Orleans, and is mostly white.

My family is a rather neutral one when it comes to anything political in that despite different views, we’re generally very accepting of one another and others and don’t care to make a scene or talk about politics at family gatherings. Theeeeen comes my grandfather on my mom’s side who is an extreme definition of a stereotypical white southerner. He’s INCREDIBLY racist, highly religious, disgusted by anyone who’s even remotely not straight, and will use any opportunity he can to start going on political tirades, make incredibly uncomfortable racist jokes, and share political “news” that’s clearly biased. His bouts are rather frustrating for everyone to deal with because if you’re not in FULL agreement with him, he’ll start going off on you instead claiming how “uneducated” and “ignorant” you are. The best thing to do is just ignore him and change subjects as swiftly as possible, usually resulting in him gaining a rather sour mood and for lack of a better word, pouting, and saying “You all should really follow politics more…”

A few weeks after a Christmas family gathering where he once again tried his political spiel, I was asked by him to dogsit his poodle for him while he went out of town with his wife on vacation. I was still on winter break from school and I would be getting paid so I didn’t mind. In addition to dogsitting, he also asked me (more like demanded) to get his laptop working again. (Nothing was wrong with it, he’s just rather ignorant when it comes to technology and had dimmed the display significantly and thought it was broken as a result.) So day 1 of the dogsitting job comes, and about an hour into it I decide to fix the laptop. I resolve the “problem” in about 5 seconds, when I notice an email notification pop up on the screen from a “political newsletter.” I click the notification which launches a page leading to his emails. Lo and behold, I’m greeted with a FLOOD of emailed newsletters from a whole slew of different websites that all share his incredibly biased and racist views, and a petty idea starts forming.

I took great pleasure in unsubscribing from each and every one of those newsletters and blocking them all, knowing that my grandpa would be none the wiser and would just assume they hadn’t updated. I closed out of the laptop and got back to playing with the dog, smiling like an idiot all the while as I thought what his reaction would be or if he’d even notice at all. The next family gathering during Easter he was unusually quiet and the only political stuff he spoke of was stuff pretty much everyone had seen on T.V. Some peace and quiet is pretty nice for a change~

I Don't Wanna Live Forever [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Requested: no
Summary: Your family takes an annual trip to the mountains with the Murphy family every year to unwind over the winter break–that being said, Connor Murphy isn’t the sweet kid he used to be, and you’d rather be anywhere else than sharing a room with him for two weeks. However, between your parents, a line of accidents, and a mapless trip in the woods seem determined to bring you together–if you can make it out alive.
Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | Mentions of drugs, abuse, alcohol, panic attacks, sex trafficking, sex, blood, hospitals | First person reader | face paced/vignette style | not proof read | tenses may change
A/N: Here’s that long ass thing I’ve been working on for weeks and just finished a few minutes ago, ayy. Based entirely off the “Connor hated skiing” line. This is long af with no read more option, sorry :/ Here we go! (THANKS FOR 500+ FOLLOWERS ♡♡♡)


Connor Murphy was a lot of things.

He was stubborn–I’d never seen him admit he was wrong, but I’d definitely seen him throw scrabble pieces across the wooden floor of the cabin, leaving Zoe to scramble red-faced to collect them as he stomped up the oak steps to his room, echoing around the house.

He was annoying–I’d told him once I wasn’t crazy about Iron Maiden, which resulted in the album being on blast for the entirety of the time he drove Zoe and I around the mall in the family’s silver minivan.

He was stoic. He was impatient. He was angry.

I’d begged my parents not to go cabins for winter break. I’d begged them to pick a different mountain range if we were so dead set on skiing. But Mr. Murphy and my mother were business associates, and the last thing she wanted to do was make them feel like we were no longer on good terms–especially because of Connor.

“Larry’s been having an awfully hard time with Connor, sweetheart, you have to understand,” my mother crooned in our rental car, fixing her lip liner as she drove, my father keeping a white knuckled grip on the Jesus handle above his head. “He’s not doing very well in school and he’s been throwing tantrums at home. Poor Cynthia is at her wits end. They’re lucky to have that sweet Zoe, she’s so talented and smart. Poor Connor is jealous and acting out, just try not to rally him up, alright, dear?”

I didn’t dignify her with a response, mostly because I knew she wouldn’t like what I had to say anyway, but also because I knew she wouldn’t care to listen, either. I sighed loudly, watching the snow flurry softly outside the window. It wasn’t fair–here I was in the middle of something so remarkably beautiful, and I’d be shoved in a minivan with the Murphy kids and stuck in the valley town’s 1970s mall with crappy t-shirts and a vape store that Connor would spend all day in.

The cabin was huge, up with a view of the town below, nearly three stories made of solid, stripped oak, in the middle of a winding road with a four percent grade. Half the cabin was supported on beams which plummeted down the mountain face. I’d be lucky to stand on the deck without vomiting, let alone being able to venture into the hot tub.

The Murphy’s minivan was already in the drive, trunk shut, meaning they’d unpacked and I’d be left with whatever miniscule space they’d left for me in the loft area.

“Remember to be nice, sweetheart,” my mother crooned again, fluffing her hair in the mirror and giving me an enthusiastic smile in the rearview. “It’s important! They’re practically family.”

Geez, I was lucky to not have Connor Murphy for a cousin.

Slinging my backpack over my arm and exiting the rental car, I took the liberty to stretch, despite the cold air that stung my cheeks and the snow that fluttered down into my hair. This may very well be the last moment of solitude I had for the entirety of the week, and I was going to revel in it.

A movement caught my eye, suddenly, and I lowered myself off my tiptoes to glance up at the second story window–a curtain fluttered shut. It was most likely Zoe or Connor checking out the commotion that was my father and mother bickering over who carried what into the house, and shutting it once they’d realized I caught them. Feeling vaguely uneasy, I turned just as Larry Murphy, bundled in a parka, burst out of the house to take two suitcases from my father.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

——

Cynthia Murphy made me stand by the kitchen counter as she was stocking the cabinet with neon colored cardboard boxes containing various sugary, pink cereals with marshmallows and prizes inside. The Murphy kids were both picky eaters, I remembered quickly, Connor more so than Zoe.

Mrs. Murphy kept playing with my hair, crowing about how much longer it looked (despite the fact I’d cut it since the last time I’d seen her) and how pretty and grown up I’d become, asking me the usually annoying adult questions (“Any thoughts on schools yet? Oh, Connor can’t decide either! Do you know what you’re going to major in? That’s alright, you’ll figure it out soon!”) It would’ve been annoying, I decided, if and only if she didn’t look so sad all the time, the purple bruising under her eyes visible still underneath the layers of makeup. My mother could say whatever she liked about Cynthia Murphy where her wifely duties were concerned–Mrs. Murphy tried to be a good mother (re: tried, period), and that was more than enough to pass her in my book.

In the background, my parents were settling into the second master bedroom, Larry Murphy yelling at the bottom of the stairs to announce our arrival. I could do without the annual reunion, awkward questions about school. The Murphy kids were tolerable–Zoe definitely more so–but it didn’t mean they had to force us together so artificially.

Zoe skimpered down the stairs first, her soft moccasin boots barely making any sound on the stairs–I was surprised to find her long legs bare, her thighs peeking out beneath a pretty pink chiffon dress, covered by what I hoped to be a faux fur parka. Her pretty auburn hair was curled, pulled back with a polka dot headband I could recognize from her childhood. She was wearing eyeliner, and cotton candy flavored lip gloss I remembered sharing when we were thirteen.

It was such a stark contrast from how I remembered her before. The last I’d seen her she’d been gawky and fifteen with a mouth full of metal and a bra full of kleenex. She was practically grown now, and beautiful–it made me feel slightly subpar in my own blue jeans and blue sweater. Regardless, she smiled brightly and skipped over to me, opening her arms to wrap them around my neck.

“It’s so good to see you!” She exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek that shocked me, as well as some others–Larry Murphy’s horrified expression was priceless, and I was convinced Connor put her up to it–but I just laughed and hugged her tightly before letting her go.

“You look so pretty,” I told her with a wry grin, and she just tossed the expression back, nodding with a, “So do you!”

“It’s so good to see you girls are still so close,” my mother tittered, beginning to uncork a glass of wine–we didn’t drink much at my house, but the Murphy’s, I knew, did, and my mother certainly wasn’t going to let that go to waste. “Where’s that sweet boy of yours?”

Larry Murphy at the bottom of the stairs, banging on the oak walls, yelling out, “Connor!” was enough to make both the Murphy women flinch visibly. Zoe still had her arm around my waist as we stared up at the ceiling above us, waiting for the squeak of sneakers on the polished wood.

“Don’t yell.”

Zoe jumped away from me as if she’d been burned, pressing herself against the countertop as if to make herself invisible. Mrs. Murphy, her hand clutched to her chest after the initial nose, fought hard to smile believably. I, myself, had jumped at the unexpected sound–Connor Murphy’s curt tenor clear across the room, no where near the stairs, instead standing the doorway were we had just come from. I couldn't  quite make out his frame from here–there was a line of bodies blocking my view, my parents, Mrs. Murphy, and Zoe all formed a human barrier that constructed the divide between Connor and I. Fine by me.

“There you are!” Mrs. Murphy chirped, clearly still nervous, visibly by her shaking voice and hands, fluffing her hair to give her something to do. “You didn’t miss much, Connor, they’ve just arrived.”

My mother said something unintelligent in way of greeting, to which Conner didn’t reply, just shut the door carefully behind him to keep out the cold air. I couldn’t see his face from here, but I could make out that he was much too still for a teenage boy, much too quiet.

“–You remember her, don’t you, Connor?”

My throat closed up as the Red Sea parted, everyone’s heads turning to look between the two of us.

He didn’t move from the doormat–boots  caked in snow, as if he’d gone for a walk, and the bottoms of his skinny jeans were muddy and slick looking. Still, he didn’t shiver, which was slightly unnerving. He was skinnier than I remembered, like he hadn’t been eating, and his face was all angles. He slouched, his pink mouth which was mottled red from the cold was set in a heavy frown. His eyes, which were scanning somewhere around my waist and hadn’t come anywhere near making eye contact since he’d seen me, had blown pupils. Drugs. He was doing drugs in the middle of the afternoon.

He hadn’t cut his hair since I’d seen him last, brown curls poking out of the bottom of a black sock toboggan with a soft pompom on top. It could’ve been funny, I supposed, his rough puberty finishing to leave him left over with this, something akin to a drugged out vogue model who listened to way too much 2008 Fall Out Boy, if he didn’t seem so…unnervingly somber for someone who clearly wasn’t sober. Geez, this kid was a school shooter in the making.

I glanced back up to find him finally staring at my face, shooting an uncomfortable alertness down my spine. His eyebrows were crooked in vague amusement that didn’t seem to reach his mouth, and I felt my face heat up under his scrutiny. If he was trying to intimidate me, it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t scared of boys like him.

“Yeah, I remember her,” he grinned mirthlessly, stuffing his hands into the gut pocket of his hoodie, giving me a nod that, while meant to appease our parents, also felt like a vague threat. I didn’t smile back.

“Great! Wanna show her the room?”

Connor grinned crookedly. “Follow me, kid.”

——

The upstairs layout was just like I remembered  it–Two rooms, one main one in the first entrance with a king bed tucked in the corner, a TV and a few gaming systems with some furniture in the front, a bathroom with two doors which lead through to the other room, which held the fold out couch and television I was accustomed to using.

The Murphy kids already had their belongs strewn about the room–Zoe’s stuff animals and princess blankets eclipsing most of the bed and an ancient Nintendo DS on the table with SpongeBob stickers on the cover that I’m sure belonged to Connor–and it left me very little room to maneuver through.

Connor was silent as he lead me up, as if I didn’t know the way, but surprised me by stopping in front of the king bed, holding out his arms to signal me.

“Your room, my lady.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “This–this is your bed.”

“Not this year. Dad’s decided it’s a little too Flowers In the Attic for Zoe and I to share a bed this year–I’m on the pull out and you girls get to have your fun.” He shot me a bitter smile to let me know he wasn’t thrilled about having the pull-out–he shouldn’t be, the thing was total garbage–but surely he’d enjoy the privacy of it?

“I don’t care to take the pull-out,” I told him, keeping my bag on my shoulder despite the fact it was beginning to be painfully heavy. “If you wanna–”

“Don’t have a choice,” he said, already turning toward the bathroom to walk to his half of the loft. “The bed’s yours.”

——

So, Connor Murphy had turned out to be a total dick. It should’ve unsurprising information, I knew, but part of me still remembered him as a charismatic kid I was, at one point, friends with. Back when the three of us all slept in the king bed, before any of us ever had a zit, when we’d fall asleep in the floor watching early 1990s Pokémon episodes, because Larry Murphy didn’t like them watching it.

Even the Connor I remembered at fourteen, gangly and silent and shy with close-cropped hair felt better than this. I was past uncomfortable, sitting stiffly between he and Zoe on one of the couches in the living room. There was a faux fur blanket hanging behind us, shedding hairs onto Connor’s black jacket, which would’ve been funny if he wasn’t picking at his nails with a slightly rusted pocket knife–I notice he’d painted them, which I oddly admired. I’d kissed a boy earlier this year who painted his nails, and his palms were always soft when he’d reach up to cup my cheeks. It softened Connor in my head, just slightly.

He was careful, I saw, to stay on his side of the couch, leaning into the apex of the arm and the back of the couch rather  than flush with me, his thin legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle to avoid me. I appreciated it, but it didn’t stop me from leaning forward, my elbows on my knees, sitting on the edge of the cushion. I could still feel warmth radiating from him–it was late, and I was tired with a full stomach. If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall right into him, and he’d never let me live that down.

Zoe practically was asleep, leaning forward as well with her head on my shoulder. Cynthia had let her have nearly two glasses of wine at dinner–not enough to get her drunk, but it didn’t change the fact Zoe was still lithe and young, and easily tipsy.

We’d all gone into town for a very awkward dinner–I was just thankful to be placed between my father and Zoe, in a position on the opposite end of the table from Connor, who was stuck in between Larry and Cynthia, looking as if he were in a permanent time out.

Now we were gathered around the coffee table in the cabin, the seven of us hunched over a tiny photo album that I couldn’t really make out from here. There were fuzzy polaroids of us as children, looking nothing like we did now. Connor and I at six, soaked from romping in a sprinkler. Zoe and Connor sharing a chocolate icecream cone, their faces covered in the brown spatter.

“You were all so small,” Mrs. Murphy crowed with a choked voice, covering half her face with her hand in a faux attempt to eclipse the emotion. “Oh, I miss it. You kids used to spend so much time together! Now we only get together for break, and Zoe is so busy there’s hardly enough time for her to spend quality time with her sweet brother.”

Zoe snorted loudly, earning a glare from Mr. Murphy I was positive I wasn’t supposed to see. I snuck a glance at Connor, whose face betrayed no emotion, just staring blankly ahead in the direction of the album. From his position, I was positive he couldn’t see more than the chipped leather cover of the book. Even if he leaned forward, he wouldn’t have been able to see much.

My mother and Mrs. Murphy went out in loud voices in a seamless attempt to pretend the seemingly secret interaction had taken place, so, while the focus was shifted, I turned my attention to Connor.

He didn’t cock an eyebrow this time when he caught me staring, instead just furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me, as if he expected me to speak.

“Can you see?” I asked, nodding my head in the direction of the book.

“I’m fine,” he said immediately–vaguely irritating, I’d admit, but nonetheless understandable. I was sure Cynthia Murphy had spent most of her life making sure Connor was comfortable at all times. Still, this was my olive branch, in an attempt to make this trip a little more tolerable, and Zoe seemed less than likely to console her brother at this point.

“We can change seats, I’m not really looking,” I promised, sitting forward more in my seat to show that I was ready to make the change.

“I’m fi–”

Connor was cut off by a squeal from his mother, who had tossed the book into our laps. It had taken a great deal of squinting, letting my heartbeat slow before I realized she’d been showing us something and not trying to kill some giant bug between us.

The polaroid was grainy, an ivory hue that whitewashed the photo and the years of existence made the picture hard to decipher at first, especially when we were so tired. The time stamp was from the late nineties, glowing yellow in the corner of the frame. I recognized the gilded tub from upstairs that dominated half the bathroom, big enough for three adults easily.

Connor threw to book onto my lap first, like it had scalded him. I should’ve done the same, but it took me a moment. To see, to adjust, to read and understand what was so socially condemning about the photo.

It was Connor, I realized first, small and tanned with bony ribs and chunky fingers and the apples of his cheeks straining against his baby skin. His hair was cropped so short, it looked almost silly. Beside him was me, my hair wild and tangled, curled as if my mother had teased it for dinner. My wide eyes were blazing, much too big for my face, and I was grinning with wet lips at the camera.

We were in the tub, surrounded by big pink bubbles.

We were very, very naked.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal–not really, unless you counted the fact that if this had been printed, our parents would be arrested for child porn. I was mostly covered, sitting beside Connor, my shoulders hunched forward. But Connor was standing, meaning the camera got a very decent view of–

“What the fuck, Mom!” He screaming, standing and ripping the book off my lap. Cynthia’s tittering died immediately, the hands covering her laughed instead covered her horrified face.

This was how it started, I realized.

“It’s not fucking funny,” he growled, tossing the book across the room, banging against the wooden wall with a heavy whomp.  

“That’s enough, Connor,” Larry Murphy growled low in his throat. Cynthia’s head was downcast, her eyes wide and wet. I recognized the emotion immediately–she shut down with conflict the same way Connor did.

“You don’t get to laugh at me for shits and giggles this whole trip,” Connor said, already lunging up the stairs, his hands shaking. “If I wanted to feel shitty, I’d have a conversation with you.”

So much for having a quiet trip.
——
Zoe wasn’t quiet in her gossip about Connor–his door was fashioned shut, I saw, and I doubt he’d come out for the rest of the night. I was positive he could hear his sister’s loud comments from our room.

“Sorry, he’s such an ass,” Zoe groaned, stretching on the bed, her little lilac nightgown shifting across her thighs. “I think his high is wearing off or something–don’t let it bug you. You don’t have to be nice to him, by the way. I’m not gonna let him hurt you.”

I shrugged, noncommittal. “We were friends once. I’m not gonna be mean, he’s never done anything to me.”

Zoe snorted. “You didn’t just see that? He’s a monster, and it gets worse.”

“He just has a temper. Everyone gets like that sometimes.”

I wasn’t sure why I was defending Connor–half because I didn’t want Zoe to tell Connor I disliked him, then he’d actively terrorize me–half because I had no idea why Connor Murphy was so pissed off. It was just a picture. Yeah, embarrassing, I’ll admit I wasn’t too thrilled about eighteen year old Connor Murphy seeing my nipples, and I’ll admit he definitely had the worst end of the stick.

“He loses his shit like that all the time,” Zoe said. “It’s not just a temper.”

“He’s your brother, Zoe,” I reminded gently, brushing out my hair in the bathroom mirror. “Can’t you give him the benefit of the doubt?”

“He’s no brother of mine,” she whispered, rolling over on the bed and clicking off the light.

——

The next few days passed as the usually did–the adults going places without us, albeit romantic and boring, and leaving the three of us to wander about the town below the mountain crests. It was Zoe’s turn to pick the day’s activity, and she’d chosen the mall.

The place was all dark oak, and hadn’t been remodeled since the late seventies at the earliest. Zoe was chipper, balancing a bag of organic soap and bath bombs on her lap that she’d bought at a local shop, pouring over the cheese fries between us on a plastic red tray.

Connor had also been well-behaved since his outburst several days ago, albeit quiet. He’d separated from us the second we’d arrived, holed out in some record store. Zoe was thrilled to be rid of him, and very vocal about it. I was bored out of my mind.

“Don’t look now,” Zoe said brightly, despite her face suddenly shifting into a mask of disinterest. She bit down on her lip, covered in a pink glitter lipgloss she’d applied much too liberally, and pulled on her pretty auburn braid. “There’s some boys two tables behind us checking you out.”

I felt my face get hot. “You’re lying.”

“Nuh-uh,” Zoe said, leaning into take a sip of her milkshake, biting down on the straw–the look on her face told me she’d got their attention.

“How old are they?” I hissed. The last thing we needed were some creeps following us around the mall–this was how sex trafficking started. Surely Zoe knew that this was a huge red flag.

It was clear from her overzealous wave she didn’t.

I felt a hand on the back of my chair before I saw them–to Zoe’s credit, they were pretty. Both in thick denim blue jeans, both in letterman jackets over white tee-shirts. One was tall, skinny, with pretty dark skin and hair cropped close to his head. The other was a little thicker, pale and short, in badly need from a shave. They were smiling brightly at the two of us in a way that was less awestruck and more closely resembled a triumphant conquest.

“Hello, ladies,” the shorter man greeted, grinning like a shark between Zoe and I. His hair was dark, curling around his temples–handsome, maybe my age, maybe ten years older. It was impossible to tell. There were lines around his eyes that either indicated he smiled too much or was simply older. “What are two cute girls like you doing inside on a day like this–the ski lift is just a walk down the road.”

“We’re here shopping with our brother,” I said immediately, giving a grin. The taller boy quirked his eyebrows at me–his eyes, I noticed, were dark with tawny flecks hidden in them.

“That’s cool,” he said to me, switching places so that the other boy could be closer to Zoe. They both pulled chairs up to our table, facing us. My stomach pinched uncomfortably. “Where’s he at?”

“Nike,” I lied, seeing the sign from the distance and knowing very well that Hot Topic, while probably true, didn’t exactly invoke fear.

“Ah,” he said with a grin, his eyes glancing down at my bare arm with a grin. With two slim fingers, he reached forward to pluck at my woven bracelet Zoe had made me a few nights ago, my name in block letter strung across the twine. His hands were uncomfortably hot, and I drew my arm back into my lap. “Aren’t you cold?” He nodded to my bare arms. I’d left my flannel with Connor, who was sitting on a bench at the time–I hoped he remembered to grab it. I was just wearing a striped cotton tee right now, and my arm had broken out in a case of goosebumps, though I wasn’t sure it was from the cold.

“I’m fine,” I said, careful not to meet his gaze. He was pretty, and if I wasn’t careful, I might end up going somewhere with this guy.

“You know,” he began, and I could hear his grin turn predatory. “You’re very pretty.”

A jolt shot down my spine–I wasn’t pretty, not really, which terrified me. I could hear what the other boy was whispering to Zoe, but I could tell that all the stars were gone from her eyes. She looked pale, panicked. These weren’t the kind of boys we needed to hanging around with.

“I know,” I said quickly. “We really need to call our brother–”

“I think he can wait long enough for me to get your number, right?”

Across the table Zoe laughed, too loudly, pushing back and standing from her chair. She was grinning at the dark haired boy, beckoning her to follow with a jerk of her chin.

“Zoe–”

“We’re gonna run to get some coffee, okay? Connor should be back soon, don’t wait up.”

She didn’t meet my heavy glare for long, and didn’t turn around when I yelled her name. I watched in silent horror as the boy put his hand flush with her lower back.

I was alone.

The panic crept onto the back of my neck long before his thin fingers did. He smelled like cinnamon, strongly, like he’d done one too many sprays with his cologne that morning. When I turned to face him, his tawny eyes were asking.

“Is this the part where you say you’ve got a boyfriend?” He grinned, his teeth blindingly bright in his tan face. He was so close I could see the threads on the collar of his letterman jacket–it looked soft.

There was a possibility, I realized, that they weren’t dangerous. That I was just being paranoid–Zoe wasn’t stupid, and she wouldn’t go off with a strange boy unless she was sure it was safe. Still, they were definitely in college.

And boy, were they pretty.

“I do have a boyfriend, actually,” I said, lifting my chin to meet his gaze so he wouldn’t think I was lying. There was a small voice in the back of my head, screaming, raised on her tip toes that I should just take this plunge–let him hold my hand or kiss him or whatever he wanted to do, because this was a shitty trip and I deserved to be as reckless as the Murphy kids were allowed. I didn’t see a reason why I shouldn’t.

Besides, you know, the obvious.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend?” He asked, biting back a smirk. I felt the voice in the back of my head get sucker punched by my ego. So, he didn’t think I was pretty after all. Which meant he was dangerous.

Which meant Zoe was in trouble.

“Yes,” I growled, standing, yelping a bit when his hand snaked up to grab at my wrist, nearly breaking my bracelet and keeping me bent over the table.

“Let go,” I hissed–the food court was nearly deserted, and the family in the corner was carefully avoiding my eyes. I wasn’t sure I had the voice to scream.

“I don’t believe you have a boyfriend.”

“Let go, or I’ll scream,” I warned, yanking on my arm. He let go immediately, holding his hand high above his head, which I knew was meant as a gesture of calm, but instead looked an awful lot like he intended to strike me.

“Where’s your boyfriend, then?” He taunted loudly, thrilled to see no one in the court coming to my aid. I felt sick, the panic rising in my chest. Where was Zoe? She was in trouble. I was in trouble. I was going to have to scream–

“He’s right here.”

My arm flailed, immediately cocking back in an attempt to elbow in the stomach whoever had wrapped their arm around my neck, their other spidery hand snaking just slightly under the hem of my t-shirt to splay across my hip, finger tips barely brushing my skin above my jeans. The arms were strong, vice like, pressing me against a hard body, and suddenly I felt limp, panic leaving me as I realized whose familiar smell I was enveloped in.

Hair grazed across my cheekbone, and I could make out the dark locks if I looked out the corner of my eye, and I nearly yelped when I felt lips press chastely against my temple.

I couldn’t make out much of the boy anymore, my eyes level with Connor’s adams apple from where he was pressing me against him.

“Babe,” Connor said cooly, calmly, making my knees knock against his. “Who’s this?”

“H-he’s leaving,” I managed to stutter out, barely a whisper, my voice hoarse. I sounded terrified. No wonder this ass in the letterman jacket hadn’t be intimated by me, I sounded about as frightening as a kitten. Connor pressed his fingers against the nape of my neck, tilting my head against his jugular so that I couldn’t see anything but the pale column of his throat and his dark hair. It was getting difficult to breathe–I felt sick. He moved his hand to wrap around my waist, yanking me tightly to him.

“You heard her,” Connor said, again stoic–half of me wished I could see his face, but the other half knew it would be terrifying. Connor’s temper was legendary and destructive–to see him so angry wouldn’t make the fist in my gut unclench. “Go. Take your friend with you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then two. I couldn’t hear much but my own shaky breathing, warm and wet against Connor’s neck, his hair making the space much too hot. I wasn’t aware I had knotted my fingers into his shirt until he started walking, dragging my stumbling form forward with him. He was going fast, too fast for me to keep up, and my chest could only rise so far before deflating painfully.

“You gotta breathe,” he grunted, one of his arms still around me. His face felt hot against me.

“Z-zoe!” I choked out, realizing I had no idea where she was. She could still be with that boy, be in danger–

“Oh, Christ,” he exclaimed bitterly, letting go and beginning to trudge forward. I was terrified briefly, suddenly overwhelmed with the fact I didn’t know where I was. There was a Game Stop, and a Victoria’s secret, the neon lighting combined with the screaming toddlers and the kissing teens and Connor was leaving

An arm swept up from behind me, leading me just as quickly, mumbling something I couldn’t make out into my ear.

“Zoe!” I grinned, immediately feeling safer, feeling my fear melt away just smidgen in my gut.

“I’m so so sorry I left,” she sobbed. “I went looking for a cop, but I found Connor first and I told him you were in trouble–”

“It’s fine,” I said immediately, surprised that my voice was no longer wet. “Thanks, Zoe.”

I was calm, or, at least calmer by the time we reached the van. Connor was waiting by the passenger side door, which was opened, leaning against a scratch in the silver paint. He wasn’t looking at us, instead appearing to observe the silver snowflakes as they fell.

My reflection in the side mirror revealed my face was red and blotchy, not just from the cold wind. I felt gross–guilty for the fact I hadn’t been able to defend myself and Zoe, guilty for the fact Connor Murphy was the one who had to come to my rescue, and guilty for the fact I’d cried all over him. His zipped up hoodie seemed to have escaped the mess, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel awful. 

He stepped out of the way when I made it close, gesturing for me to get in the passenger side door while glaring at the ground. I was only vaguely surprised, and followed along immediately. Zoe and I almost always rode together in the back. I let Connor shut the door, ignoring the disgusted look Zoe gave as she got into the back.

Connor hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, surprising me with a costume change, reappearing in only a forest green tee. He held out his hoodie to me, balled up in one of his fists without looking at me, before just tossing it into my lap.

“I–”

“I left your flannel in the back. Put that on or you’ll freeze.”

He licked his lips, staring coldly out the front window, before starting the car. I swallowed. Yeah, he definitely hated me.

“Okay.”

——

“You’re sure you’re alright, honey?” My mother asked for the third time. Her hair was tied up, her pink bathrobe covering little of her cleavage and bare legs. She was cradling a wine bottle in her hands, looking at me in faux concern.

I gave her a soft smile. “I’m fine,” I lied. I’d calmed considerately. Connor and Zoe had both agreed I needed to shower to wash off the panicked look on my face–I’d asked them to keep the days happenings a secret. They’d reluctantly agreed.

She gave me a clipped smile. “Maybe you should go to bed early, yeah? That’s what I plan to do.”

I nodded, scratching at my bare leg. I’d taken advantage of Zoe’s absense and changed into boxer shorts and an oversized tee with a kitten on the front–she and Cynthia had headed into town for the night, spending the night at a spa and would be gone for a few days, and my father had taken his annual ‘me time’ and booked a hotel downtown to do his own thing. I think Mr. Murphy went with him, but regardless, he was out of the house. It was just me and my mother.

And Connor. I tried not to think about it. I planned on offering him the big bed tonight, in way of thanking him for today, but we hadn’t spoken much since the incident and I felt…odd. Unsure how to thank him. Unsure why he helped.

I supposed the Murphy men were just gentlemen, even under all that teen angst.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m probably gonna sit out on the balcony and then head to bed.”

She grinned. “Don’t stay out too late, it’s almost down to single digits, dear.”

I just nodded, sliding off the countertop, and slinking upstairs. I was surprised to see Connor sitting on the bed. I grinned.

He looked different, to say the least. He was still without his jacket, wearing only his tee and jeans, and little pair of socks with stars on them, which did seem a little out of character, but I assumed Cynthia bought them. His head perked when he saw me, simply craning his neck, keeping his shoulders bowed forward over his body.

He looked small, I realized. He didn’t look like a boy who punched holes in walls or scared off very big very scary men in shopping mall food courts. He looked like a vogue model with a little too much innocence.

He gave me a grin with no teeth, and it didn’t quite meet his eyes, but I gave him a sheepish smile back.

“Hey,” I greeted, tugging on my top to cover my shorts a little better–Connor Murphy didn’t have any interest in seeing my thighs. Despite all the panic, I’d been playing over and over in my head the comment the boy in the mall had made, incredulous that I had a boyfriend. It was silly to let it sting me, considering he probably wanted to stuff me in a van, but it crippled me nonetheless.

“Hey,” he greeted back, not rising from the bed.  I waited for him to speak again, and when he said nothing, I continued.

“I, uh, meant to say, since Zoe’s gone, you can have the big bed like good old times.”

He frowned. “I don’t need the bed.”

“I don’t either,” I promised, leaning against the banister. “Plus,” I sighed, scratching at the back of my head. “I’m not entirely sure how to thank you for today. I’d probably be selling for a low ball price on the dark web right now, if it wasn’t for you. So, thanks.”

Connor was still frowning. “You’ve had a really rough day. You should take the bed.”

“No,” I insisted, beginning to get frustrated. “I’m really okay, I promise. I can’t give you anything else, take the bed.”

His dark eyebrows knit together quickly, licking his lips again nervously. “I don’t–”

“Plus,” I cut him off again with a curt laugh. “I owe you for your Oscar performance. That was crazy, you know. I can’t believe you fooled him into thinking a guy like you would be with a girl like me.”

His head snapped up. “A guy like me?” He reiterated coldly. I felt my face grow hot.

“You know,” I said quietly.

“Know what?”

“That you’re cool,” I muttered. “And nice looking. And I’m not.”

I was thankful for the warm lighting in the room, concealing my red face. It was already dark out, the blinds drawn tightly. Connor’s fists clenched in the white lace comforter on the bed. I didn’t want him to feel bad for me, and I sort of regretted saying it. Connor had already seen me blubbering today and he didn’t need my shitty teen angst to deal with.

He bit down on his lower lip, staring coldly at the ground before murmuring, “I need a shower. Take the bed.”

I shook my head. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

He just nodded, rising from the bed. “Don’t get too far. It’s cold out.”

Connor shut the bathroom door behind him, and I was left feeling like a total idiot. I could hear the shower running before I left, snagging Connor’s grey jacket from my bed post and sliding it on. I went down the stairs, sliding out the first door to the outside, stepping out onto the first floor balcony. I made a mental note to the shut the blinds later, before walking around to the front of the cabin.

I should’ve been thrilled to be alive, I realized, snorting at how melodramatic that sounded. Still, as I burrowed deeper into Connor’s jacket, watching my thighs turn red from the cold, I realized that I was shrouded in a veil of melancholy I wouldn’t be able to shake off.

I missed Connor. I missed being his friend. I missed him coming over for play dates when we were kids, gauzy fairy wings strapped to our backs, jumping on a trampoline when Zoe was still to young to participate. I missed writing him letters, like a pen pal, despite the fact he only lived on the opposite side of town. Going to different schools hadn’t deterred us, for a while, at least. We had sleepovers every birthday, and Zoe told the best scary stories. I remembered hiding under Connor’s bed with him, a hand clasped over my mouth so Zoe wouldn’t hear our breathing.

I remembered kissing him when we were in kindergarten, ridiculously late at night, a quick smack on the lips during a game of pretend. I’d kissed Zoe, too, when we were probably much too old for it, but thinking of Connor tugged on my chest.

It stopped as we turned twelve, I realized. I never saw him–he was still playing little league, and I stopped coming to his games to pick dandelions with Zoe. He was beginning to get teased. My parents insisted the slumber parties should stop, we were too old. Every time Connor and I were together at birthdays or Christmas parties, adults would joke about when we’d fall in love, how soon would it be before we got married. We avoided each other like the plague, unless we knew we could be alone. And we were never alone.

Connor hid inside himself. Zoe made fun of him at parties, loudly. I kept quiet.

He stopped calling during the summer months. He never rode his bike by my house. The only time I saw Connor Murphy was the annual ski trip.

I missed him. He’d been a childhood friend, and I’d let him go without a second thought to save myself some shred of dignity, like it wouldn’t be ripped away from me regardless.

Connor Murphy was nothing to be ashamed of.

And now it was too late to be his friend.

It had started to snow again, so I wiped my face and rose, walking the opposite way I had come, skirting the stairs–they led to the upstairs, but only to Connor’s room, and I didn’t plan to barge in uninvited, especially if he was still in the shower, two rooms blocked me from getting to the king bed, so I’d have to walk all the way around the house.

The lights were out, I saw, but again no one had bothered to close the blinds. The television might have been on, a dim blue glow resounding onto the leather couch–

I froze.

As it turned out, my mother hadn’t gone to bed. The television was on, showing some late show with some old white man making cracks about some politician I didn’t care for, casting the blue haze onto the coffee table, revealing the wine bottle my mother had been cradling. Two empty glasses sat on the table–my mother’s bathrobe crinkled on the floor.

I was disgusted in a comedic way, just for a moment, to see my mother in her nightgown kissing my father, who my brain had filled in under the assumption he’d arrived back.

I’d begun backing up to the stairs, Connor Murphy’s naked body be damned, when I realized my father’s car had never pulled up, and I’d been on the front porch the whole time.

A better look in the window revealed a man a little older, a little more gray and a little more handsome than my father.

I was sprinting by the time Larry Murphy had begun to peel his shirt off his back.

I didn’t knock by the time I’d made it to Connor’s room, just threw open the door, struggling to get my breathing under control. I stumbled to the pull out couch, dragging the sheets up around my freezing legs. I was in shock, I knew, and I needed to calm down before Connor came in–the bathroom door was shut, but I couldn’t hear the shower anymore, despite the steady trickle of steam coming through the cracks. I was trapped in this room until Connor came out.

My mother was cheating on my father Larry Murphy. Larry Murphy was cheating on his wife with my mother. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe it, I had to have made it up, this had to be a dream–

“What are you doing in here?”

It was an exclamation, alarmed, grasping a towel tight with thin white knuckles.

Connor. Connor in a towel. Connor wet with slick hair and chest hair and navel and hip bones. Connor Murphy, son of Larry Murphy, who had his tongue down my mom’s throat–

“Hey, breathe, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

By the time my eyes snapped back into focus, Connor was struggling to pull on grey basketball shorts without dropping his towel, and I dropped my gaze back to my shaking hands, almost startlingly red from the temperature change and what was most likely shock. I was hyperventilating, struggling to smother the sobs. I knew this deep in the house, they probably wouldn’t hear me–they were most definitely preoccupied anyway. 

The bed dipped, and Connor’s bare side brushed my thigh. I didn’t mean to jerk back, but I did, clinging to the arm of the couch and staring horrified–Connor looked almost hurt, but mostly panicked. I tried to calm down, for his sake.

“S-sorry!” I sobbed. “Sorry! I-I-I didn’t mean–I didn’t mean–I didn’t–I–”

“Hey, stop, breathe. You gotta breathe. Go slow, okay? Stop tryna talk,” he commanded, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t gonna hurt me, readjusting so that he sat up on his knees, leaning  over me to take my hands, rubbing them between his own despite the claminess.

I avoided his eyes, focusing instead on the dip of his collar bone, surprised to see thin lines of chest hair, wet and plastered to his chest. He was skinny, and I could see his ribs despite the tiny stomach roll from where he folded in the middle. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles across the backs of my hands, and for a moment, I didn’t think. I could’ve forgotten everything and fallen asleep right here with him.

He pulled my hands against his chest, cradling mine in his own, pulling me forward, asking with his slate eyes if it was alright.

I pretended we were friends.

“You wanna talk about that?” He asked very softly, looking down at where our hands were clasped against him–he was warm, his skin pink and hot from the shower. He’d combed his hair back out of his face, and it was almost cute like that. “If it’s about today, I promise you’re safe, alright? I wasn’t gonna let that guy hurt you.”

My heart sunk in my chest, nearly restarting my panic attack. I shook my head.

Connor deserved to know.

I was scared, briefly, that it would set him off. He might yell at me, throw things, kick me out of the room. He might hit me.

I didn’t care. He had a right to know.

I swallowed thickly, shaking my head. “N-no.”

“Did something happen on your walk? Are you okay?”

I shook my head.

“What? Trouble back home–your boyfriend break up with you or something?”

“My mom–” I started, voice breaking, feeling fresh tears of shock on my cheeks.

His eyebrows furrowed, tightening his grip on my hands. “Is she okay? She–”

I saw it in slow motion–his jaw unclenched, eyebrows relaxing from their set, pouted mouth turning down. It was calm. It was knowing.

“You saw them,” he said very softly, letting my hands fall back into his lap. I was too shocked to move them away from his thighs.

“You knew,” I spat–an accusation. I hadn’t meant to make it one.

Connor scrubbed at his eyes roughly, flopping onto his back against the bed. Frustrated.

“I was tired of my dad reading my fucking emails, so I hacked into his–I only saw a few. I didn’t want to see anymore.”

I paled, feeling nauseous. “So it’s happened before?” I choked.

He swallowed. “That was two summers ago.”

“Fuck,” I hissed uncharacteristically, surprised to find Connor stretching out an arm to me. I took his hand with a firm grip. “How long before then.”

He shrugged. “Maybe our whole lives. Maybe before. I’m not sure, angel.”

I nodded, secretly pleased that he was so calm. It kept me level, grounded, watching where our hands were linked.

“What do we do?” I choked. “I have to tell my dad. He deserves to know.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “Everything would change. He’d tell my mom.”

I bit down on my lip, folding down onto my back to lay down beside Connor. “I hadn’t considered that.”

Connor sighed, scratching at my hand tenderly with his black painted nails. “I’m not sure that my mom and Zoe could handle the news–it’s not like they’d turn to me. They’d be alone. Zoe might even take my dad’s side.”

I groaned, stealing my hands to scrub at my eyes. My wet hair was beginning to dry in a tangled mess.

“This is too much,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side to face Connor, staring at his bare, freckled shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. If I can do anything.”

I jumped a foot out of my skin when he placed a hand at the corner of my jaw, brushing the tangled hair back out of my face. “You don’t have to think about it right now. You’ve had a really long fucking day. You should sleep.”

I didn’t want to sleep–I didn’t want Connor to leave. I didn’t know how to say that.

I couldn’t believe that everyone had tried to desperately to convince me Connor Murphy was a bad boy–fuck them, Connor Murphy was good. He was better than everyone in this cabin combined.

He cared about me.

I caught his wrist, which froze in my grasp, but I just took his bony hand and cradled it between my hands the same way he’d done mine, tracing the lines across his palm. He sucked  in a sharp breath.

“Okay,” I said, and he smiled, moving away. I let go of his hand.

“I just have to turn off the light. Get comfy.”

His retreating footsteps filled my stomach with dread, but nevertheless I unzipped his jacket and draped it on top of the blanket so that it would at least keep my feet warm. Pulling the pillow tight behind my head, I was pleased to find it sort of smelled like Connor’s shampoo as the light clicked off. It left me feeling a little more safe. Ironic, I realized. I was in the middle of a wilderness, I’d almost been abducted, my mother was downstairs ruining our family, and all I could find myself to be worried about was if Connor would be okay.

The bed dipped behind me, shocking me into stillness, surprising me even more when someone lifted the sheet and slid in behind me, a bony hand resting on my hip.

“This okay?” He asked, and I dared to open my eyes to meet his. They were unsure, nervous. He was scared I’d reject him. I nodded, scooting closer.

“It really will be okay, you know,” he assured. “Whatever you choose, I’m gonna be with you.”

“You’re amazing,” I said without thinking, but being entirely sincere. Even in the dark, I saw his eyes go wide and his cheeks tinge a deep magenta in his pale face.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” I assured with a laugh, reaching across the divide to poke at his side, slightly surprised to still find him shirtless. He’d withdrawn his hand almost immediately, keeping respectfully to his side of the bed. “I’d be dead without you. And you’ve supported me this whole way.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched, freeing one of his arms to pick at the wrinkled sheets between us. “I just, fuck, I knew you’d hear some shit, but I was hoping you’d be able to come out here and we could start over again, like before? Zoe started her smear campaign almost immediately. I just, fuck, nevermind.”

I watched him withdraw, turning over with his back to me, the pale plains of his back bared to me.

“Con,” I said very softly. “I don’t care what they say–fuck them,” I laughed, watching Connor’s shoulders shake. “I think you’re good, Connor, and I miss being your friend.”

I watched with bated breath as his back rose and fell with his steady breath in the cold room, his skin radiating heat. I shifted closer, crossing the divide between us. He didn’t respond.

I didn’t sleep.

——

I was alerted late in the day by a noise–it was daylight, I noted, the clock on the bedside table reading it was almost noon. I was groggy, still in the state between sleep and consciousness. The room was shrouded in a bright grey hue from the winter wonderland outside–it had snowed a significant amount, apparently, and the white fluff stuck hopelessly to the window.

At the foot of the bed, Connor was on his knees, pulling a navy sweater over his head. It was tight, with a stretched collar and holes at the hem, but he looked good in it. His hair was frizzed at the temples, and his eyes were wide when we saw me.

“You’re awake.”

I just nodded, a little embarrassed. Part of me hoped Connor would just let last night drop, and we could continue our indifference toward each other, but most of me felt as if we had an unfinished conversation to attend to.

“Is anyone back yet?” I asked, surprised as Connor came to sit in front of me, legs crossed kindergarten style. He shook his head.

“No, actually. No one came back from their trip, and the lovebirds have miraculously vanished for a ski day. It’s just me and you.”

“Oh.”

Connor seemed unsure for a moment, brushing his hands off on his pants. “I’m sorry, um, about last night? I should’ve asked first if it was okay to sleep next to you, I just–I know you said you missed being friends, so I thought–”

“It was nice,” I cut him off with a smile that was nearly all false bravado. “Warm. I really do miss hanging out with you.”

He pursed his lips in way of a smile. “Me too. Miss having friends, period, but you’re kinda great, so–I’ll shut up.”

Stretching, I groaned with the sensation and smiled widely at him. “We can be friends again, don’t you think?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. When my vision cleared, he was sitting by my feet, eyes downcast.

“It’s kinda lame, isn’t it?” He asked, sending ice down my spine.

“What, I’m not cool enough for you?” I teased half heartedly, despite feeling slightly sick. If Connor left now, I’d be marooned on this island I’d made for myself, and it wasn’t ideal knowing I no longer had any allies.

“No! That’s not what I–no, fuck, I just meant. Don’t you like Zoe better?”

I shook my head. “I like Zoe–but I liked you first.”

“Yeah, I liked the Teletubbies first, doesn’t mean I prefer them to Death Cab for Cutie.”

I snorted. “Okay, I like you best. You’re both really similar, you know, but you’re kinder.”

He shot me a glare, which I supposed I’d earned. “Liar.”

“Can’t lie,” I protested. “And I like you better. Get used to it.”

He swallowed, shifting on the bed and looking at me again as if grappling to say something. His eyebrows were pinched in the middle, making him look slightly worried, small. I watched the way his mouth bowed as he opened and closed it, my eyes tracing over his soft lips.

He was pretty, I realized, in a way I wouldn’t have considered before.

“What about when you leave?” He asked softly, scratching his arm absently.

I frowned. “What about it?”

“We won’t see each other again.”

I smiled. “Connor, you just live on the other side of town. I do own a car.”

He frowned. “You’d come to see me?”

“If you wanted me to,” I answered honestly. “Or we could go do stuff. It doesn’t make me any difference–whatever you want, I’m game for.”

His eyebrows took a sharp hike into his hairline. “Whatever I want, huh?”

My stomach clenched nervously–decidedly a good kind of nervous. I didn’t realize it till he placed his hand on my ankle, grinning up at me with crooked teeth and pretty eyes, that I might’ve begun to develop a small crush on him.

Which wasn’t okay.

——

“This is such bullshit.”

I cackled as Connor continued to strap on his snow boots, repeatedly tripping and losing his balance in the snow.

“C'mon, it’s fun!” I protested, pulling my sock toboggan down tighter over my ears, trudging another few slow steps through the slush. Connor was frustrated, I could tell, seeing his pink nose and ears, his breaths coming out in angry puffs of smoke.

“No,” he grunted, dragging himself up the trail a few more steps. “Video games are fun. Cartoons are fun. Cheap Internet porn is fun. Dragging my frozen ass up a mountain covered in snow for ten miles is not my idea of fun, dude.”

“It’s not ten miles,” I protested, taking a seat on a mostly clean looking rock, patting the seat beside me in condolence to Connor, giving him a much needed break. He’d agreed to go outside with me at least once to take a hike, since the Murphy kids never ever wanted to do anything that didn’t involve fried food or touristy tie dye t-shirts. We’d been going for a few hours now, and the last bench had easily been miles ago. I wanted to see where the trail ended.

Part of me was scared he’d only agreed because he thought I would break. I’d surprised myself with how calm I’d been after, well, what a nightmare this trip had been. I supposed I’d be worse once my dad got back–but he wasn’t yet, so I was content to have my last moments with Connor.

“We’ve been out here for hours, man, don’t you think we should head back before it gets dark?” He whined, leaning forward on his elbows and rubbed his hands together–he had on mittens, which was probably the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Say what you want about Connor Murphy, his aesthetic was absolutely demolished once you put him in a fire engine red puffer coat.

I sighed, glancing wistfully up the trail. I’d like to finish, but Connor was right–it was getting dark, too dangerous out for us to be out here alone. He’d humored me enough for today.

Time to go back and face reality.

I just nodded, stuffing my hands in my pockets and rising from the rock, giving a decent stretch before moving forward back down the path, Connor scurrying along beside me.

“Thanks for coming,” I said again, nudging him with my shoulder. He stumbled gracefully, grinning with a subdued force that warmed me a little, before checking me back with his shoulder.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he warned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But it wasn’t totally awful.”

I snorted. “I won’t let anyone know Connor Murphy can feel fun.”

Biting back a smile, he nudged me again. “God, please don’t. Then they might bring me back here and I’ll have to spend another two weeks with you.”

“I’m sure I’m just killing you inside,” I teased. “How dare your parents give you unfiltered access to a teenage girl.”

“Who never wears pants around the house,” he added sagely.

“And sleeps in your bed!” I choked with laughter, the bird walking along the snow path in front of us clearing the way. “God, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry, I was probably awful. Did I snore?”

His mouth twisted, as if trying to look indifferent but instead just failed at smothering a smile, both corners of his lips turning in a different direction.

“Not awful,” he offered, earning an embarrassed groan from me. “No! It’s cute, like a kid, I promise. You kicked the shit out of me, though.”

“You’re kidding me,” I groaned. “I’m so so sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Might be some bruises,” he grinned, to my further mortification. “Hey, nah, I’m kidding. Any damage will heal. It’s kinda funny.”

I cocked an eyebrow from where I was hiding my face behind my gloves. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” he said, reaching out to take my wrist, pulling one of my hands away from my face. He didn’t realize it, just held it, swinging stiffly between us as we walked. He held his breath for a moment before continuing, “I would’ve let you know if I didn’t like it.”

“Kinky,” I said upon reflex, earning a lazy kick to my ankle.

“You’re hilarious. I just meant you’re warm, maybe the bruises are worth it.”

I felt my face get hot, words forming in my belly, escaping before I could choke them back. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll kiss them better tonight, if Zoe isn’t back.”

He let go of my wrist like I’d burned him.

“Sor–”

“Don’t,” he said quietly, stuffing his hands in his pockets, beginning to walk quickly ahead of me.

“What?” I screeched, frustrated.

“Don’t fake flirt with me. It’s not funny,” he spat, continuing walking too fast on his ridiculously long legs.

“Who said it was fake?” I grumbled. “I’m not making fun of you, Connor.”

There was a beat of silence, pulling at my heart with sharp claws, the dull ache starting in my chest and spreading. I’d messed up everything.

“It’s getting dark,” he growled. “And we don’t have a flashlight. Try and keep up.”

——

The panic set in at twilight.

We were running.

He was holding my hand again, dragging me roughly down the mountain, hoping desperately to see some kind of light pollution as the sun set, but there was nothing.

“We should see lights by now,” I told him. “We can see the lights from our cabin, we should see the lights now.”

“We went down the wrong side of the mountain,” he gasped, already out of breathe. I knew his lungs weren’t the best, and we’d been running for awhile now.

“There has to be something at the bottom,” I whispered hopelessly.

“There is,” he growled. “It’s called a gorge, then you climb the other mountain, and there’s the next state. Fuck, how did we get so turned around?”

“Doesn’t matter, Con,” I said hopelessly. “It’s gonna be dark soon.”

His dark eyes widened. “You aren’t sincerely suggesting we try to find shelter. In the middle of a national park.”

“I’ve got a flare gun and a flint,” I told him. “But we have to get back up out of the trees.”

“You want us to climb the mountain again?” He hissed, holding both my hands now. “Are you positive you don’t have signal?”

I nodded. “I’m really sorry, Connor.”

“Don’t be sorry. Start walking.”

——

It was an accident.

It was dark.

I had an analog watch, letting me know it was nearly nine pm. We’d found shelter just as it had started to snow–the  ground here was wet, quickly freezing into ice, and we kept slipping up on the trail. I’d set off the flare an hour ago, and, so far, nothing. The snow had begun to pick up, and we’d found a alcove between two adjacent rocks–not big, about the size of a walk in closet, but enough space for us, our bags, and a pile of wood that refused to light. It kept the snow and wind off of us, and the alcove was high enough I felt safe, with a small mouth that made me feel as if at any instant we could be trapped.

It was an accident.

“The fire won’t light,” I said again, hopelessly, watching my now bloody fingers go numb from trying desperately to get the flint to do its job. I couldn’t feel them without my gloves on.

Connor, huddled in a corner, viciously rubbed his arms in an attempt to get warm. I knew the  temperature would only drop from here. If someone hadn’t seen the flare….

“There’s no dry wood. I checked.”

“Nothing?”

“No, okay? Nothing. That’s it.”

I knew he was right–and searching now would only prove to be counter productive and dangerous. I moved our bags and the pile of firewood to the entrance, sealing us in.

“It’s gonna be pitch black soon,” I warned, watching Connor tap angrily at his phone. “You should probably save your battery. I don’t have a flashlight.”

He snorted. “You’ll bring sleeping bags and a flint, but not a flashlight?”

“It’s the emergency bag! I didn’t pack it, Connor. Make fun of it all you want, but it’s keeping us alive!”

There was a beat of silence, before he clicked his phone off, leaving us in darkness. “M sorry.”

I dragged out the single sleeping bag, stretching it out to him. “Don’t be sorry.” I felt guilty–it was my fault we were in this mess to begin with. “Wanna granola bar?”

“Save it,” he said in a clipped tone, unsure what to make of it since we were veiled in darkness. “We might need it later.” Then, softer: “What’s the plan?”

I heard him stand, and walk across the slick ice of the alcove, coming to stand beside me, his hand at my elbow.

“Well,” I said very slowly, feeling my throat get thick. “Survive the night, stay awake, and once dawn hits we head back to the other side of the mountain, if no one comes.”

“If no one comes,” he echoed, voice oddly hollow. I choked.

“It, erm, is very possible they think we just wandered off, you know? We’re teenagers,” I reminded gently. I left out the part the police would be less than willing to look–Connor had a history of running away after a bad binge.

“Fuck,” he growled.

It was an accident. It was quick, in the dark, we couldn’t see.

He reached our for me, his open palm colliding with the back of my head, yanking me tightly again his chest, my nose buried in his nylon puffer coat. I felt his other hand, too forcefully, at the small of my back, and I nearly screamed, terrified this was an episode I couldn’t control–

“We’re gonna make it outta here,” he breathed against my ear, his breath warm and humid against my freezing ears. It set off a light bulb in my brain. “We’re gonna go back home and–fucking shit, I’m gonna be a goddamn good friend to you and we’re gonna–fuck,” he hissed, his clipped voice breaking off. “I’m gonna take care of you, I’m not going anywhere.”

I let myself break open, collapsing against him, openly sobbing with regret. He stiffened, but just tightened his arms around me despite our bulky clothes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This is all my fault.”

“It is not,” he hissed, shaking me a little. “We had no way of knowing this would happen. The trail looked safe.”

I just nodded, knowing that arguing would tire me out. I felt the lethargy begin to creep in my bones–Connor was warm, and it was late, and we were tired. Falling asleep meant dying.

“Get out the sleeping bag,” he said, extracting himself from me, and I heard his hands scrape along the hard rock looking for the entrance. “And I’ll look for some more blankets in the bag, see if we can’t insulate–fuck!

“What is it?” I screeched, turning, grabbing his hand to only find that my own was suddenly wet, almost sticky, and Connor pulled away with a howl. I smelled the metallic sting before I realized.

“Something cut my hand!”

“Stay away from the wall,” I warned. “Take your undershirt off, I’ll rip it up.” I felt around desperately for Connor’s phone, immediately illuminating our little cave with a blinding blue light.

The amount of blood smeared across the wall was nauseating. There was a sharp spot Connor must’ve grabbed too quickly.

He was crying, trying desperately to unzip his coat with one hand, the other dripping onto the floor.

“Fuck, I hope something doesn’t smell that,” I whispered, laying down the light and running to help him get undressed, careful of the open cut across his palm.

“I knew I was gonna get naked tonight,” he said with an unsure laugh, “I just didn’t realize it would be like this.”

My face flushed. “What, you thought I’d suck you off because we’re about to die?”

He shivered, accentuated by me ripping his white shirt down the front, exposing his blue, goosebumped skin.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and I was unsure if it was from the cold, the pain, or my foul language.

“Hope this is clean,” I muttered, wrapping a strip of his white shirt across his palm in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a good way to get an infection, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.

“I didn’t–I wouldn’t ask you to–”

“I’m not sucking you off!”

“Fuck, I just meant–hypothermia, skin to skin, I saw it in a movie–”

The phone light clicked off. I sighed, tying off the cotton bandage.

“You wanna get naked in the sleeping bag,” I finished.

“I don’t want to!” He howled. “And not naked–just, enough to stay alive, shit. It’s gonna be negative ten out here soon, I just wanna stay alive.”

“We should hurry,” I said, surprising myself by reaching out to urge him to rub at his bare chest, earning a gasp from him. “You’re gonna freeze soon. Get your pants off.”

I handed him the sleeping bag, my breath catching as I heard his belt clink to the floor, trying very hard not to think about the implications of this. How far did he expect me to undress? And, if we did get in here, it would be ridiculously tight, we might fall asleep–

“Hurry up, this bag is an icicle with one person.”

Straightening out my bra and panties (even if we were going to die, Connor Murphy did not get to cop a feel) I felt my way to the sleeping bag.

My hand on his chest, he guided my legs one at time–one by his side, one between his knees–and gently folded me down against him, uncomfortably tight as his shaking fingers zipped the sleeping bag up.

He was breathing hard against my temple, and I immediately began to sweat–between the nylon bag and the fact I felt all of Connor Murphy pressed against my chest and stomach–it was nerve wracking.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he reminded in a hoarse voice, shaking a little. I couldn’t quite figure out where his hands were.

“Don’t get a boner,” I begged, earning a beat of silence before:

“I, uh, am–I’m really trying not to,” he groaned, and I could feel how hot his face was against my temple.

“If it helps,” I said, slightly disgusted. “You can imagine our parents kissing. That really kills my fire.”

“Ew,” he said. “Please don’t.”

I grinned. “What? You don’t want me to be your hot step sister?”

Stop it,” he begged, making me laugh, pressing my face against the soft cushion of his hair, nosing at the column of his throat. He groaned a little, and I felt his fingers twitch beside my hips.

“I can’t believe their secret is going to die with us,” I sighed. “No one is ever going to know.”

“I can’t believe you’re lying on top of me in your spiderman panties, but that’s also happening, so you’d better believe it,” he sighed, hands twitching again.

“You can touch me, you know,” I breathed, a little embarrassed against his ear. “We’re gonna die anyway, might as well die comfy.”

“We won’t die,” he promised, his hands clasping over the small of my back regardless.  “Hey,” he crooned, in a soft voice I hadn’t heard before. Encouraging. “Remember sharing a sleeping bag when we were kids?”

I laughed half heartedly, remembering fully. “The thing was always full of pixie stick wrappers.”

“It was an addiction, and I have quit,” he said sagely, earning another laugh from me. I almost joked about the pot, but part of me knew it wasn’t a funny joke. It didn’t have anything to do with him. He sighed, one finger trailing up my spine. “God, I was so in love with you.”

I froze against him, my body a live wire. His hand pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said tha–”

“Were you really?” I asked. I felt him smile, before leaning in to kiss my cheek, slowly, his dry lips lingering.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” he groaned. “Zoe had me convinced you were just humoring me because you knew I’d do anything for you.”

I pulled up, as far as I could (which wasn’t much) squinting to make out his face in the dark. “That wasn’t true. You were my best friend.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. God, that time when you kissed me….I’m so sorry we stopped talking. I don’t think I’m ever gonna forgive myself for that.”

“Connor,” I said very softly, reaching up to tangle my hands lightly in his hair. “If we’re gonna die…can I just….”

He surged up before I could, the nylon around us snapping taunt, squeaking in protest. Up on his elbows, his bony hands found their purchase on my bare hips, and I felt the wetness through one of the bandages–his hand was still bleeding, the idiot.

His lips were dry, and he kissed much too roughly for someone who wasn’t holding my head in place, our teeth clinking together in a way that I knew was an accident, sending my skull ringing. His eyes were squeezed shut in the darkness.

I can’t believe it took us to the brink of death for him to admit this.

God, he’s an idiot.

I reached up, pulling at his hair, holding his head to mine, his tongue licking roughly up into my mouth before breaking away–

“Boner,” he warned in a squeak, earning a loud laugh from me, collapsing against his chest.

“Not even in death, Murphy, am I sucking you off on a first or last date,” I giggled against his neck, giving him a chaste kiss there, listening to him groan. His hips canted a little, scaring me, before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“First date, huh?” I felt him grin, followed by a yawn.

“Stay awake, Connor,” I urged, smacking him hard. “Or I’m gonna twist your nipple.”

“Kinky,” he sighed lethargically. Shit, he was gonna sleep.

“Connor–”

“Promise me this,” he sighed, nuzzling lightly against the side of my face. “If we survive the night by some miracle, and we don’t freeze to death or get eaten by bears or bleed out–you wanna kiss me again? With more clothes on? As my girlfriend?”

I leaned into his touch, tilting my head up to give him access to suck a hickey into my neck, groaning.

“Murphy, if we live, I will suck you off.”

That was the last thing I remembered.

——-

Three days later, it’s still cold. I’m not wearing much–a blue gown with shitty pink flowers, it’s made of some kind of plasticy cotton material. There’s blood under my fingernails and bruises on my neck that are almost embarrassing when I remembered how I got them. My clothes were gone.

Connor was gone.

My mother and father were leaning over my bed, the Murphy's  (minus Cynthia) are behind them. No Connor.

They explained it slowly, eyes wide. They found Connor and I nearly frozen, unconscious. Connor lost a lot of blood, they said, and he wasn’t do so well but he’d woken up several days before me.

He wouldn’t eat until they let him see me.

I’d nearly ripped out my IV to get to him.

He was wearing the same shitty hospital gown, his hair pulled back. He’s got hickies I don’t remember giving him across his collarbone that are ridiculously visible. There were purple bruises under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping.

“They said you were still too sick to get out of bed,” he grinned, opening his arm, and I immediately stumbled over to the thin mattress, pressing myself tightly against him. His hand is thickly wrapped in cotton, a few tubes full of a yellow brown liquid in them. He was combing my hair–which I’m sure was a rats nest–out with his free hand.

“They said the same about you.”

“We’re really lucky, you know,” I said softly, tapping at his chest. “I almost lost you.”

“Almost lost you,” he choked out, pulling away to scan my face, before grinning. “Which would’ve sucked, because you’re my only friend right now.”

“Friend?” I said, trying hard not to sound disappointed. I supposed I shouldn’t have been–what we’d done in the heat of a moment hadn’t meant anything then. It had been a lie for my humor.

It wasn’t fair.

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “You, um–do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

I frowned. “I mean, only if you want me to.”

He grinned, the smile splitting across his face. “It’ll suck–your parents will hate me.”

“Right now, I kind of hate my parents, so.”

“I do a lot of pot.”

“We can do something else instead,” I grinned, nudging him, having the nerve to blush.

He licked his lips, looking down at where he’d intertwined our hands. “You–you can’t fix me, you know? I’m still gonna be, you know.”

I nodded, bring his hand up to kiss across the bloody knuckles of his good hand. “I know. I promised I’d be your girlfriend, though. A promise is a promise.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you say that–because you did promise something else.”

I shook my head, rising from the bed. “The kiss is for when we have clothes on, remember.”

“I wasn’t talking about that kiss.”

Connor Murphy!

The college application process is without a doubt the most stressful time in all four years of high school. Here’s my advice on getting through it:

  • First of all, if you’re reading this as a freshman or even a sophomore, calm down. You do not need to be worrying about college yet. So many things can change between now and your senior year, any plans you make now likely won’t be the same then. I didn’t even know what schools I was applying to until I applied to them. I thought I knew for sure what school I was attending until I was accepted into the school I actually ended up attending. Just focus on doing well in school and having fun, then cross that bridge when you get there.
  • Begin researching schools after junior year ends. Junior year is notorious for being the worst one of the four in high school. The work is ridiculously difficult, the pressure is insane, and standardized testing is exhausting. After it’s over, you will have the taken the majority of the classes that will appear on your transcript, you’ll have your ACT/SAT results, and you should now have a good idea of what schools are within your range. Maybe your GPA tanked and you didn’t do as well on the SAT as you thought, so your former match schools are now reaches. Maybe you managed a 3.9 GPA and a 35 on the ACT, so your reaches are well within reason. Summer before my senior year, I (thought I) knew what I wanted to do and began looking for universities that offered me that. 
  • Be open-minded. I’ve seen lots of students get into the mindset of “these are the schools I want to go to, these are the ones I’m applying to, and that’s final”. Don’t be stubborn. If you find a school you’d never heard of before, but it has a really great program in your field of study and a beautiful campus, add it to your list. It can be scary to venture into the unknown when you’ve had your heart set on going to the same university for your whole life, but you never know what could happen. That school you just discovered could turn out to be your dream school. Your list of prospectives is live, meaning it can change. Welcome those changes with open arms.
  • Apply to your dream school! Going into senior year, I planned to apply to one school. Yeah, that’s right. One single school. It was a state school with guaranteed admission and I thought that I would save myself the time, stress, and money of getting rejected from other universities. For some reason, I genuinely thought I had no chance of getting into any school with an acceptance rate of less than 50%. Thank god my parents made me apply to Vanderbilt University, which had always been my dream school. One day, completely expecting to get rejected, I got my acceptance email from Vandy, and now I’m starting my second year there in August. All of this to say, again, you literally never know what’s going to happen. “But my grades/extra-curriculars/test scores aren’t good enough!” There were plenty of people in my class with better stats than me in all of those categories that got rejected from Vanderbilt. There’s no rhyme or reason to college admissions. Apply to that reach school, and keep your expectations in check, but you could be pleasantly surprised.
  • Have multiple safeties. At least two. My safeties were two state schools with guaranteed admission so I knew I’d have somewhere to go in the fall. If you can’t find somewhere with guaranteed admission, find a school with admission averages that you exceed by a lot. I know this seems like obvious advice, but I know of quite a few people, both at my high school and online, who got rejected from literally all the schools they applied to. Those who had a safety went to the safety. Those who didn’t have a safety went no where. Don’t be in that second group. Have safeties, and be prepared to attend them.
  • Don’t procrastinate. Another piece of advice that might seem obvious, but trust me, you’re going to be tempted. Senioritis is real and you aren’t going to want to do anything, especially if it’s not for a grade. Luckily for me, my AP lit teacher required us to turn in our admissions essay as an assignment in September, so I had mine done way ahead of time. If you don’t have a teacher to hold you accountable, you have to do it yourself. Start your essays as early as possible and edit them over the weeks before the deadline. Ask for your rec letters at the end of junior year before summer break. Make sure you have all your deadlines written down and get all your paperwork in order early. There will be plenty of people spending their Christmas and New Years finishing college apps that are due the next day. Don’t be one of them. You’ll save yourself a lot of stress.
  • Stay organized. I saw a studyblr post where someone made an excel sheet comparing all their prospective schools, with categories like size of campus, tuition, type of housing, etc. I did that and it was a great way to keep track of everything. I also put all the essays needed for the application as well as when they were due, so I could easily see what I had left to do. I highly recommend doing this: here is a template you can use to get started. Even if you don’t decide to do this, use your own method to keep on top of all your application work. It can easily get lost beneath your schoolwork or other things you have to do. Make sure it doesn’t!
  • Keep yourself busy. The waiting to hear back from schools after submitting your apps is the worst. It’s torturous. I submitted my applications in October/November, and didn’t start getting decisions until March. That leaves all of winter to be nervous. The only way you’ll get through it is to not think about it. Focus on school, get a job, enjoy your last season of a school sport, just stay busy to keep yourself distracted or else it will be the longest few months of your life. Take a mental break from anything college-related until the good news starts rolling in.
  • Prepare yourself for disappointment. Rejection is never fun, it’s never easy. You might think you’re going to be fine, but it hits you harder than you think. When I got my first rejection, from Georgia Tech, I cried. I didn’t even want to go to Georgia Tech. But I felt like I wasn’t good enough, and therefore I wouldn’t get into any other school. The whole reason I wanted to apply to just one school was to avoid that feeling. If only I had known that my dream school would accept me just a couple weeks later. It’s going to be tough seeing everyone around you get into their first choice school while you’re receiving rejections, deferrals, or waitlists. What you have to remember is that everything happens for a reason. That rejection means that wasn’t the school for you. You will end up where you are supposed to be. 

The application process is grueling and stressful, but also very rewarding. Stick through it and it will all be worth it. Up next in the University Advice series: choosing/changing your major. If you have any other ideas for topics you want to see covered, please let me know!

Next post: Choosing/Changing Major Advice

Teen Dad Three [Finale Part 1 of 2]

Teen Dad Three [Finale Part 1 of 2]

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: I guess it’s kind of sad?

A/N: This would be the Finale part 1 of 2! I was going to make it one big ending but, I decided to cut it into two parts, mainly because this ending gets you more curious about what’s going to happen next. Let me know what you think :) My goal was to make you feel warm and happy inside and also make you cry and hurt your heart a little haha (Though I don’t think I can, I’m not that good of a writer)  | i love you all ! :) <3


Tagged: [teen dad series] @nell-under-a-microscope @blueberryprincess10 @bookworm06

@dailyavenging  @purveyor-of-the-words @bubbles2428 @briannareneea985

@andreuskystuff @alaskayoung-x @twilight-loveer @alexafromthefandom @cutie1365 @wannabe-weasley @littlemisscaptainfandom  @left-boob-chris  @mary-19

[For all Tom/Peter fics] @smazztastic @im-a-screwedup-mess @rubyeun

{Everything} @pinkynerd

Sorry if I forgot you! Please let me know if I left you out or if you want to be tagged or removed. (Please let me know what you want to be tagged to) I’m new to this tagging thing haha and my inbox was full of a lot of Teen Dad part requests so things got confusing. :)

Teen Dad | Teen Dad Two


Peter ran back home, breathing heavily.

It was around midnight, Aunt May should be asleep.

Peter unlocked the door, opening it carefully, and shutting it quietly behind his back.

Walking back to his room, he was startled when Aunt May was watching him from the hallway.

“May. Wh– what are you doing up this late?”

“I should be asking you the same thing, Peter.”

“I– I was just going out for a walk. That’s all.”

“And why are you going out this late at night?”

“I– I couldn’t sleep, but I’m tired now, I’ll see you in the morning.”

And with that, Peter walked past Aunt May, walking straight to his room.


Getting up later than usual, since it is winter break after all, Peter slept till 9am, usually he wakes up at 6:30 for school.

He got up and walked to the kitchen to get breakfast.

“Mornin’ May.”

“Good morning, look, I need to get some stuff from the store, I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

She said, she grabbed her keys, walking towards the door.

“It’s going to take you one to two hours to get ‘some’ stuff?”

She scoffed, hand on the door knob, “you know how I am.” She laughs, making Peter laugh as well, knowing how she gets distracted and ends up buying everything but what she needed.

She gave Peter a soft smile, “I miss seeing that smile of yours sweetie.” Peter looked down, nodding.

“I do too.”


“Do you think you’ll be okay being by yourself for a couple of days?”

Your mom yelled over the loud sound of her hair dryer.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Call May if anything happens, I talked to her the other day.”

“Okay, I will.”

She put the dryer down and turned around, looking at you sitting quietly on the foot of her bed.

“Sweetie,” she said, holding my chin up.

“Still haven’t talked to Peter huh?”

You shook your head no. She sighed, caressing your cheek.

“Don’t look so down baby girl, something will turn up, okay?”

You nodded.


Peter laid on his bed, staring at his phone.

He’s been thinking of when he should call (Y/n). He doesn’t know what’s going on with her anymore. Is she okay? Is she happy? Sad? Still mad at him? Will she ever forgive him? Is she feeling sick at all? His finger hovered over her name. One little tap and he would be calling you.

He let out a sigh, jumping and dropping his phone on his face when it started ringing.

Tony Stark.

He let it go to voicemail. He didn’t want to talk to anyone but (Y/n) right now and he doesn’t know if he can even do that.

Tony Stark Misscall (1)

Tony Stark Voice Mail (1)

He clicked on the voicemail, Tony never calls and it left him curious.

“Hey, Spidey. What happened last night? Did you tell her? I really hope you do make the right decision. Think hard about what’s more important, and make the right decision all right?”

Peter thought hard about it alright.

He still wasn’t ready to be a father, but he still loves (Y/n). He still doesn’t know what to do but all he knows is that he loves you.


An hour or two after your mom left, you felt a little dizzy.

Holding your head, you closed your eyes before passing out on the couch.


Aunt May came home, Peter was passed out on the couch.

“Peter,” she cooed, “wake up honey.”

Peter opens his eyes slowly and props himself up onto his elbows.

“What– what time is it?”

“It’s time for you to wake up. Stop sleeping so much, you didn’t use to be so sleepy all the time.”

“I just haven’t been getting any sleep lately.”

She sat down next to him, he scrunching his legs up to his chest, putting his head on his knees.

“Talk to her.”

“How!”

“Call her, visit her, talk to her when you see her!”

“I– I just can’t May. It’s not as easy as you think.”

“It is as easy as I think Peter. You both are so depressed about being apart. You know how to make that depression go away? BE TOGETHER.”

“But the baby! That’s the only thing I’m afraid of May. I don’t know how to be a father. I’m still a kid.”

She sighs, fully turning to him this time.

“Pete, do you think I was ready to take care of you when your parents passed away?”

She looked straight into his teary brown eyes.

“I was as terrified as you were. But you were my responsibility. You and (Y/n) did what you did and you have to deal with the consequences. I didn’t raise you to be irresponsible.”

Peter had tears streaming down his face, he was silent. May wiped the tears away from his cheeks, and kissed his salty cheeks.

“You’ll be fine Pete, trust me on this. Okay?” Peter nodded.

“Good. I have to go leave again, I have a dinner to go to with some friends. Be good, okay? I brought home some take out if you’re hungry.”

He nodded, still quiet.

She kissed his forehead, “love you.”

“Love you too.”


You woke up a couple hours later, rubbing your head. What happened? You wondered. All you can remember is your mom kissing you goodbye and binge watching Pretty Little Liars afterwards. When you looked down, your eyes open quickly.

You saw some blood, knowing what that meant, you called Aunt May right away.


Peter turns around as he heard a phone ringing. It wasn’t his usual ring tone, so he looked behind him with a confused look. Seeing May’s phone on the table, he sighs.

She left her phone again.

Grabbing the phone, he checked who was calling. Seeing your name popped up on the screen, his eyes goes wide, but he decides to answer anyways. This was his chance to make things right with you again.

“He–”

“Aunt May!” He heard, her voice was shaky and cracking. You can hear her sobbing, panick was also heard in her voice.

“(Y/n–”

“I need to go to the hospital. My– my mom is out right now and– and no one can go with me so if you can– can you meet me there? I– I’m so scared. I’ll text you the address. I wish Peter was here.” You whispered the last part to yourself before you ended the call, but Peter still heard. Guilt formed around his heart. He couldn’t stand hearing you so hurt. He doesn’t know what’s going on but he snapped out of his thoughts once he heard a ding. Looking back at the phone, seeing that you sent the address to the hospital you’re going to, Peter ran out the door in a heartbeat.


You sat in a hospital bed.

Heart pounding in your chest.

Constantly rubbing your hands together.

Your whole body was trembling.

Thoughts running through your mind.

Constantly looking at the door.

Waiting for Aunt May to walk in.

Waiting for the doctor to tell you what you needed to hear.

The longer you wait, the more you tried to convinced yourself that whatever happened, whatever was happening.

Happened for a reason.

Maybe losing the baby, maybe it’s suppose to happen. Maybe it wasn’t a good thing. Maybe it was a reality check. Maybe the baby showed you something you didn’t notice in the relationship you had with Peter. That he didn’t love you as much as you thought. Because, without the baby happening, you wouldn’t realize that him being Spider-Man was more important than him being yours.

2

“And you love like you’ve always been lonely.

Oh you love him with all of your body.”

cynicalmiles  asked:

hey do you have any advice for freshman? i start my freshman year next week and im incredibly nervous about going

Ahhhhh I’ll do my best but I’m also an incoming freshman, lol :3c Excuse the awkward formatting, I’m on mobile.

For me, I cope with my Anxiety by rationalizing to the point that my worries are abated. One way to do this is by over-preparing!!! I like to over-prepare because it helps me feel more in control of my situation. Here are some things to occupy your time with:

Start packing your clothes! My college is close to home, so I’ve been organizing my clothes by the season. That way, when I come home during a break/winter, I can easily switch out my clothes and bring weather appropriate attire. If you’re living far away from home, packing your clothes in advance makes it easier for your family to send it to you via mail!! (Better pray they don’t get lost though lol)

I really, really hope you’ve done your dorm shopping already lol. If you already have the essentials, maybe start thinking about the trinkets! The knickknacks. The crap you bring from home that drips with sentimental value. People always advise freshman to be out of their dorms as much as possible, but as someone who can be easily drained by social situations, it’s important to me that my dorm is a safe space. Also a comfortable one! Which is why I’m bringing lots and lots of pillows. I bought some dog pillows recently, they’re really cute!

I’d also email/text/chat with your roommate if you can! It’s an important thing to do because 1. You need to hash out who’s bringing the rug, and 2. First impressions, even ones online, are important! Also, it’s nice to talk to somebody before you’re even on campus. On that note, if there’s a group chat for your class, I’d try to join it. I’m not too active in mine, but it’s nice to pop in every once in a while. It’s a good way to get people to know your name :) Plus, you can find people who will live in the same dorm as you there! Nice.

If you have your class schedule for the first semester, then you know the names of your professors. If you’re feeling brave, email them and ask them to recommend some outside reading for the class or something like that. If the idea of emailing them makes you shit your pants, avoid talking to them directly and instead sleuth it up online! Google them! Go on ratemyprofessor and read the reviews! Analyze them for weaknesses. Just kidding! But no, seriously, figure them out as a teacher and plan accordingly.

I love school supplies shopping… I love the thrill of micromanaging every single purchase. Also the thrill of preparing for every sort of disaster, and then backup plans for that. Staples is my god. I find organization to be very relaxing! Especially because my executive functioning is shot to shit. Invest in a planner and also some sort of wall calendar that you can hang up so you see any upcoming consequences in real time instead of squirreled away in your book. Trust me, it’ll help. Also buy pens!! Especially sparkly ones. And mechanical pencils. I have a very big budget when it comes to back to school shopping.

BUY A FIRST AID KIT. They’re really fun to make, or you can drop some $$ and buy a pre-made one. Mine is $25 and weighs like ten pounds and has supplies for everything from a paper-cut to someone needing CPR! I love it.

Plan out what clubs you’re going to join! And it may be hard, but try to email the people in charge in advance!! In high school, I constantly missed the join dates for so many cool clubs… to circumvent this, email club presidents and ask for a calendar of all the meeting dates! Or ask them where their booth will be if your school is having a Join-A-Club day. Just make sure to get on the mailing list!!!!!!! Yes. Clubs are 1. A kickass way to spend time, 2. Looks great on a resume, 3. Opens the door to new opportunities like club promotions and other things, and 4. THE EASIEST WAY TO MAKE FRIENDS. For every douche in a club, there are like four overly nice upperclassmen who will gladly take you under their wing and mentor you to the point that it’s kind of overwhelming! So join clubs, but don’t overbalance yourself. College is a time to have fun, but also to learn!! Don’t waste your money on booze.

Hm……… I’m kind of tired so I may be forgetting some words of advice but here is a starter guide!!!!!! Good luck :3c

The One-Night Perfect Relationship | Alex Standall X Reader

English isn’t my first language, so please excuse any mistakes.

Characters: Alex/fem!reader. Clay and Hannah are mentioned.

Warnings: fluffy. Also happy!Alex. And may or may not have some High School Musical songs in the story, but, oh well…

(E/C) stand for “Eye color”/(B/F/N) stand for “Best friend’s name”.

Word Count: 2550 words.

One part of her didn’t want to be there, but the other one, which she decided to listen to, felt that the night could get better somehow. (Y/N) was on the bleachers, considerably alone since she didn’t know anyone who was sitting there, watching people dance with their dates and friends at the dance. They were jumping around, but they seemed to be having fun while doing it, which made her feel like dancing too, but everyone there had a group of friends and she didn’t want to be the weirdo jumping alone.

(Y/N) wanted to dance and her body was starting to send signals that she needed to move. So she began to sway slightly from side to side, trying not to draw attention of anyone on the bleachers. When a familiar song began to play, (Y/N) forgot for a second to try to be discreet and shook her head as she moved her arms up, letting a small smile escape her lips until she realized what she was doing, her eyes widening and bringing her arms back down. Damn the upbeat songs. It was only for a few seconds, but she had already managed to get someone’s attention.

The girl lowered her head, looking down at her own feet. And then she felt that sense of when someone is staring at you. The girl’s (E/C) eyes looked up shyly and started looking for someone who was looking at her, stopping at a boy with bleached blonde hair who was sitting a little distant of her. He had a small grin on his face, he wanted to laugh. This made (Y/N) feel her cheeks heating up as she looked down again, even more embarrassed.

“Nice moves.” she heard a male voice, which obviously came from the boy, talking to her. “Hi.”

“Hi.” she gave a small wave, looking sheepishly at him.

(Y/N) had seen him around school, but she couldn’t remember if she’d ever heard his name.

“Why are you alone here?” he spoke again after a few seconds in silence.

(Y/N) grimaced. “I didn’t even know I was coming here today.” the boy raised an eyebrow at her. “I didn’t plan to come, but my friend bought two tickets and dragged me here.”

He nodded, staring at the rest of the people in the bleachers. "Why isn’t she here with you, then?”

“She brought me because she thought her date wasn’t coming.”

“But he came.” he completed his reasoning on his own. “So she dumped you alone here.”

“Sitting here isn’t so bad.” he gave her a disbelieving glance, but she just laughed. “Why are you here?”

His eyes turned to the dance floor and he pointed to someone she couldn’t define who it was. “I was hoping to dance with her.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Nah, I deserve it.”

Neither of them said anything for a few more seconds, watching people still dancing in their strange way.

“What’s your name?” (Y/N) broke the silence, turning to him.

“Alex.” he gave her a small smile, turning his head toward her. “And you are?”

“(Y/N).” she smiled back at him.

Alex looked at her for a few more seconds before pointing to the empty seat beside her. “Can I…?” he asked for her permission to approach.

“Sure.” (Y/N) smile widened as the boy crawled over to her side.

The dance was supposed to be, well, for dancing, but soon (Y/N)’s urge to dance was decreasing while talking to Alex. On the dance floor they hardly would be able to talkbut there where they were, they could enjoy each other’s company more. They spent more than half of the Winter Formal getting to know each other better, starting a competition of who had the most shameful story to tell and, overall, talked about everything.

"So, I was already in my pajamas and getting ready to watch my shows when I heard a horn outside.” (Y/N) started telling the story of that night, seeming to amuse Alex with it. “And I went to see who it was and (B/F/N) was all ‘Get in loser, we’re going to the dance’.”

“The ‘Mean Girls’ of real life.” he said with a laugh.

"Yeah, I totally am Lindsay Lohan.”

Alex looked at the girl from head to toe before smiling. "You’re not upset about being left by your friend?”

“Not at all.” she shrugged. “I wasn’t joking when I said it wasn’t so bad to be here. I think it’s kind of cool to be able to see this big socialization of confused teenagers from afar.” (Y/N) pointed at them dramatically, then turning to point at the boy next to her. "And a little socialization right here.”

Alex still had a smile on his face as he took the girl’s finger pointing to his face.

"I’ve never noticed you until today, you know.” he said, then frowned. “Did that sound rude?”

“A little bit, yeah.” (Y/N) chuckled as he apologized. “Well, I had noticed you before.”

That seemed to get his attention, his eyebrows arching with curiosity. “Oh, really?”

"I took an interest in you because of your hair.”

“Oh, this.” Alex grimaced as he pointed at his hair.

“It’s like it’s from another world. I always wondered what it would be like to touch it.”

“Be careful there, it’ll take you to another dimension.” he grinned, nudging her.

(Y/N) smiled, looking once more at the dance floor, something catching her eyes. She frowned at the scene she was seeing before she began to laugh. Alex smiled slightly, caught by the girl’s laughter.

"What are you laughing at?”

“They got style.” she answered, motioning two people jumping in a very strange –yet funny- way. (Y/N) managed to recognize the boy as Clay Jensen, but she wasn’t sure of the girl’s name, even though she had already seen and heard about her.

“Your moves are better, though.” (Y/N) laughed at his words, remembering the ridiculous dance that had performed.

“Shut up.” she smiled slightly, listening to a slow song start playing and people start to pair up. “Wanna go out?”

“Hm?” he looked confused.

“The dance is about to end. Want to walk out there a little?”

“Yeah, sure.” Alex stood up and reached out to help her up. What a gentleman.

He was walking ahead and as soon as the girl stood up the urge to dance came back. Then she tried to sway a little as she stepped out of the bleachers. Wrong move. She stumbled and almost fell, catching the attention of a few people who looked at her, laughing.

"What the hell are you looking at?” Alex asked them as he came back to help the girl out.

(Y/N)’s ankles ached slightly making the girl whimper down as she walked. She saw her friend looking at them both with a smirk, causing the girl to roll her eyes and lower her head.

“What the hell was that?” Alex asked as they walked toward the exit from the school.

“I was trying to perform, if you didn’t notice.” she stopped to massage her leg for a second before continuing to walk. “As if it were High School Musical or something.”

Alex’s head turned to her with the mention of the movie, a smile on his face. "So it looks like I got a Disney fan here.”

“Totally, man.” she said before she felt the cold night air hit her face as they reached the outside.

They continued to walk in silence until they were completely off the school grounds and started walking on the sidewalk, where some people passed as well. Alex started to walk slightly faster than (Y/N), staying a little ahead of her before turning to her, making her stop walking too.

“Alex…?” she frowned when she saw him taking a deep breath.

Livin’ in my own world, didn’t understand.” he began to sing. Oh no, he wasn’t doing that. (Y/N)’s mouth opened slightly, not knowing exactly what to do. “That anything can happen, when you take a chance.

(Y/N) was still, not knowing what to do, when Alex looked at her expectantly, making a smile spread on her face, before she cleared her throat. “I never believed in.” the boy smirked at her. “What I couldn’t see, I never opened my heart.”

“Ooh.” he made sure to say it in a very dramatic way, which made (Y/N) laugh.

“To all the possibilities.” she continued to laugh as he approached her. “Uh.”

Alex started to swing toward her as they sang. “I know that something has changed.” (Y/N) mimicked his movements and began to swing too. “Never felt this way.” she was sure that people were looking at them at that moment. “And right here tonight, this could be the start of something new.” after all, it wasn’t so usual to see two teenagers singing loudly in the middle of the street. “It feels so right to be here with you.” they both grinned at each other. “And now looking in your eyes, I feel in my heart the start of something new.”

The boy, with an amused smile, raised one of his hands, motioning for her to hold it. “Now who’d ever thought that.”

(Y/N) copied his smile, raising her hand and intertwining in his as they sang. “We’d both be here tonight.”

“And the world looks so much brighter.” she continued as he lowered their hands and pulled her down the sidewalk. “With you by my side.”

Alex seemed to have found something he was looking for on the sidewalk, letting go of (Y/N)’s hand, and walking quickly to a bench, getting up on it as they continued. "I know…” he turned to her, holding out his hands to help the girl up. “That something has changed.” (Y/N) laughed through her words, shaking her head as she walked quickly to where he was. “Never felt this way.” she accepted his help. “I know it for real, this could be the start of something new.” Alex took careful steps, imitating with his hands the moves she had made earlier that night, making her laugh while doing the same thing, shaking her head from side to side. “It feels so right to be here with you.” (Y/N) felt like jumping, just like people were doing at the Winter Formal, but she knew she would either break the bench or fall from there. “And now looking in your eyes.” Alex slowed his dance moves, looking for the girl’s eyes; (Y/N) did the same. “I feel in my heart …” they smiled at each other. “The start of something new.”

They kept staring at each other for a few more seconds, neither of them daring to break the eye contact, until a car stopped in front of them, honking. (B/F/N). (Y/N) got startled, almost felling off the bench because of it, causing Alex to hold her, holding the girl by her waist.

“Thanks.” she murmured a little sheepishly.

“Hey girl, you want a ride?” (B/F/N) asked.

(Y/N) was about to accept when Alex’s voice caught her attention. “If you want, I can take you home.” a small hopeful glow gleamed in his eyes, and only then she realized that his arm hadn’t left her waist. Not that she was going to complain about it.

“Alex will take me.” she turned again to (B/F/N), who smirked, nodding.

“She better get home alive, Standall.”

“As you wish, ma'am.” the girl laughed at his answer before winking at them and driving away. “She seems to be cooler than Regina George.”

(Y/N) laughed. “Sometimes she is.”

“Come on.” he released his arm from her waist and getting down from the bench, then helping the girl do the same.

Thank God that High School Musical performance hadn’t taken them so far from the school parking lot. (Y/N) had always complained that school was really far from her home, so she had to wake up early if she wanted to be in time for class. But at that moment she couldn’t be more grateful for that, it meant she would have more time to talk to Alex.

In the end, she could see that the part of her that thought that night could have got better had guessed right. She’d met Alex and that had made that night exceptional. They had hit it off, and that night seemed somehow magical. So that could only mean: either that was really the beginning of something new or that had been an one-night perfect relationship. (Y/N) sincerely bet on the second, although she wanted the first one to be right.

An one-night perfect relationship is the one you have, well, for one night. When you aren’t suffocated with your daily problems and the pressures of your friends. You are a diferente person on this one night, more relaxed and even happier. Who would know how things would be between them if they talk to each other every day, or what would it be like in front of their friends? Well, there’s no way of knowing if it’s just a one-night thing or something else until you try it, what really counts is making the night worthwhile.

These thoughts passed over (Y/N) mind as they got out of the car, since Alex had offered to walk with her to the door.

“Well, I’m sure I won’t not notice you from now on.” he said when they reached her door.

"Well, it’s not just your hair that makes me interested in you anymore.” she said, a small smirk on her lips.

He chuckled. “I’m glad.”

They looked at each other for a few more seconds, both thinking practically the same thing. Alex wanted to kiss her as much as she wanted to kiss him. But would not that be wrong? Would not it be too soon? But then again, what if the next day they didn’t feel the same thing they felt at that moment? Don’t think too much, make the night worthwhile. It’s now or never.

Alex quickly leaned toward her, pressing their lips together, placing one of his hands on her waist and the other on the girl’s cheek. (Y/N) wasted no time and soon began kissing him back, moving her lips against his, placing her hands on his neck, but only so she could touch his hair. Alex noticed that and gave a small smile into the kiss, which soon turned into a laugh, making him pull away from her and rest his forehead on hers as he laughed.

“Sorry.” he said still laughing, which made the girl laugh together.

"I really thought for a moment that this was going to take me to another dimension.” it only made him laugh more, being accompanied by her.

The laughter took a while to decrease, until there were only smiles on their faces. “Bye, Gabriella.”

“See you around, Troy.”

Alex gave her a long peck before letting go of her and starting to walk away, a smile still on his face. (Y/N) watched him for a few seconds before opening the door, listening to him honking at her, waving goodbye from inside the car before leaving. The girl closed the door, resting her back on it. Whether it was the beginning of something new or just a one-night thing, it was worth it.


Masterlist

Every Other Weekend pt. 7

Prompt: After five years of marriage and two kids, you and Bucky decide you can’t make it work anymore.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,681

Warnings: divorce, angst, cheating, language

A/N: TAGGING IS CLOSED. (please message me if you want me to let you know when a new part is posted. i’m more than willing to do that.) there are three songs that i heard AFTER i started this fic that fit so ridiculously well. so check them out if you want:
Confess Cheated Liar

Tagged: @defendors @thorne93 @winterboobaer @marvelfandom-stuff @all-around-geek@cchrriissuuu@katexbishopx @justreadingfics @frolicsomefawkes@dasani-saraai@awwtommo@aenna-4@courtneychicken @lorenaheartsyou@goldwanderer@irepeldirt@sebastianstantrash @tardisin221bst @ok-ladies-lets-get-in-formation@redroomproperty@elegantnightmareshiro@stomachfilledwithbutterflies @demongodess@buckyb-avengers@redlipstickandplaid @panda-reads-stuff @basse53 @chipilerendi @thewinterdorito @jenn48041

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

——

Originally posted by imaginingbucky

The alcohol coursed through your veins and you felt the swimming feeling in your head. If you weren’t leaning against the bar, you’d have fallen over. “I’m just going to call him.”

“You shouldn’t.” Natasha attempted to be the voice of reason but you shrugged her off. It was the first time since the divorce was granted a month ago that you’d gotten a chance to go out with your friends. Your mom had the kids and you weren’t originally going to go, but Nat practically dragged you out of the house.

“I’m going to.” You nodded, your vision blurry now. “Be back.” Bucky’s number was still on speed dial. With a sigh, and some stumbles, you walked out of the bar and leaned against the brick wall.

The phone rang three times before he picked up. “Hello?” His voice was low, with a tired groan. “Y/N do you know what time it is?”

“Bucky just listen.” You swallowed hard, slurring your words.

“You’re drunk.” He sighed.

“I’m not. Okay, maybe a little. But I have something to tell you.”

“What?” He was growing impatient.

“I love you.” Overwhelmed by emotions, and the four shots you had just downed before making the call, you started to cry. “I miss you so much.”

“Y/N…” Bucky let out a sigh and you heard him shuffle around in bed. “You shouldn’t have called.”

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Wolf!Wonwoo

Requested by anon: The Wonwoo fic and Taeyang fic are so freaking cute and they are so well written too omg! Please write more fics for the both of them as they’re my favourites (: Wolf!au? Thank you ((((:

Requested by anon: Wolf!au for wonwoo or woozi! Thank you and I love your works!!

so i got the same au request i hope both of these suited your taste! LIKE I SAID I HAVE OVERWHELMING FEELS FOR WONWOO SO THIS IS PROBABLY LIKE THE LONGEST HEADCANON I’VE EVER WRITTEN THIS IS SUPER LONG OMG BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY EVERYONE!!!! BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE WONWOO IMAGINES :)))) if you weren’t satisfied please send me another request!

  • oKAY NO LIE I WAS LITERALLY THINKING ABOUT THIS LAST NIGHT
  • I was lying in bed and was just like “hm you know wonwoo really resembles a wolf????”
  • aND THE NEXT THING I KNOW I HAVE 2 REQUESTS ABOUT THIS AU LMAO
  • I love jeon wonwoo anyways
  • You lived near a very dense forest with your grandpa
  • Since it was a small town, there could only be so many things that could happen before word travels
  • Ofc nothing ever happens in your small town the most eventful thing was when the local market ran out of your favorite potato chips like honEST TO GOD
  • But as of late there’s been more signs of wildlife in the forest and everyone is lowkey freaking out like what is this we haven’t even had livestock in 80+ years????
  • Thanks to the dense forest there’s been showing a steadily increase in deer population yay!!!! But also what!!!!
  • With deer ofc comes…………
  • Wolves
  • Packs and packs of them
  • You’re worried for your life what if a wolf is gonna attack you one day since you’re right next to their habitat!!!!!
  • Your grandpa is just like lmao y/n chill i was a hunter back in the days we’ll be fine
  • It was a chillier day than usual in the winter and temperatures were dramatically dropping

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All Or Nothing - Part 2 - If I’m Lucky - Smut

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Words: 5,847
AN: Okay! Here it is! Finally! Sorry for the long wait, this was just not coming to me as well as I wanted it to. This is the final part. Special giant thanks to @writing-obrien and @sarcasticallystilinski for their input and encouragement!


There’s a couple songs in this, here are the links for them
Cold Coffee by Ed Sheeran
If I’m Lucky by State Champs
Dancing With A Wolf by All Time Low (This isn’t really in here but I imagine this being the song that’s played when the fic ends, plus it’s where the bands name comes from!)

PART 1



You woke up wrapped in blankets, your body pressed against Stiles, his arms holding you close to his chest. You opened your eyes to peer up at him, sighing internally at how peaceful and handsome he looked when he was sleeping. You closed your eyes, snuggling back into him, not quite ready to deal with the aftermath of what you’d done, trying to stay in the bubble of happiness a little longer.

His arms moved to pull you closer, his chest rising and falling with every breath. “You awake?” He whispered, causing you to sigh.

“Yeah.” You shifted away so you could see him better, your heart thumping at the look he was giving you, half asleep and smiling.

“Mm.” He leaned down, his lips meeting yours softly. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I was afraid you might run off in the middle of the night.”

You chuckled. “It crossed my mind.” You moved off of him, settling beside him and pulling the blankets up around you.

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anonymous asked:

CAN U PLZZZZ!! Make a workout post..I want to start working out this year but Idk where to start..I use to have trainer but ehh. Ur body looks so good gurl..what do u do? Even if it's just a simple workout plz post it

Thanks! So for working out I have a really strict routine i follow it EVERY SINGLE DAY except sunday. (Atleast i did before winter break but im def back into it) You haveee to be consistent with your work outs figure out days best for you and the most important thing is work out around the same time because thats how your body gets used to it. This is what i do:
Mon/Wed/Fri: I do legs/stomach
first i either run or get on the tredmill for 30 min
4 sets x 12 reps of leg curls
4 sets x 20 reps of hip abductions
4 set x 20 reps of hip extension machine
5 sets x 20 reps of leg press machine
Then I do
4 sets of 12 reps ab crunch machine
Then i twist with the ball for my obliques

Tues/Thurs/Sat: I do legs/arms+shoulders (im mainly focusing on my rear delts)
first i either run or get on the tredmill for 30 min
4 sets x 12 reps of leg curls
4 sets x 20 reps of hip abductions
4 set x 20 reps of hip extension machine
5 sets x 20 reps of leg press machine
Then I do
4 sets x 12 reps shoulder machine
4 set x 12 reps bicep and tricep machine
4 sets x 20 rep rear delt machine
walking with ur back straight with a pole placed on ur shoulders will help straighten them out too and thats what im working on my posture

Winter Anime Final Impressions

I was supposed to do this like two weeks ago but with Gundam ending so late and me getting swept up with many things, I didn’t have the time, but here’s a quick rundown of the best and worst of the Winter season. I’m gong from best to worst and also since I watched very few shows this season, I ‘m not gonna break them down in best/meh/worst

Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu: Sukeroku Futatabi-hen

A masterpiece to the very end, as heartbreaking as it was full of joy and love. There was this weird insinuation at the end that didn’t sit well with me at all and I’m not sure why they felt the need to do it, but I can overlook it because the rest of the picture is so wonderful and special and heart-wrenching. When Konatsu asked Yakumo to make her his apprentice, I actually cried. What a beautiful show. Don’t let the obscure antique Japanese art keep you from experiencing one of the best anime of this decade.

Ao no Exorcist: Kyoto-hen

I was a bit worried about this one because lately, when an “old” show gets a sequel many years after it last aired, said sequel turns out underwhelming and poorly done. See D.Grayman HALLOW (which also adapted my favorite arc from that manga) and Berserk (production values aside, the decline of this is due to Miura’s gross storytelling, so I guess it was inevitable). But I was more than surprised and ecstatic to see this rendition of the Kyoto arc did justice on the source material, with excellent production values, a good pace and wonderful emotional and action scenes alike. AoEx is one of the finest examples of the battle shonen genre and that translated wonderfully to this new iteration of the anime. I can only hope we’ll see Izumo’s and Shura’s arc eventually too.

ACCA-13-ku Kansatsuka

I was a Little on the fence on this one at the start, but once they laid down all the cards and tied all the loose threads, it became absolutely amazing. I’m sorry I ever doubted you Natsume Ono, your ability to craft smart and fascinating adult stories shall never be questioned again. Definitely worth checking out if you want to try something different to your usual anime genres. Helps that the visuals are really interesting and that Mauve is such a bae. I still feel Jean was the weakest link with his absolute nonchalance, but even that somehow worked at the end. Definitely worth going through the somewhat slow initial episodes.

Yowamushi Pedal: New Generation

NGL i’m not a fan of Kaburagi, he’s so much like Naruko I don’t feel he adds anything to the team. But this is now officially the Teshima show and that compensates for the snooze that is Kaburagi because Teshima has become so fabulous and cool I’m just excited every week to see what he’ll do next. Also the First-year race was a true highlight and I’m very disappointed Sugimoto didn’t make the cut, they did a fantastic job in making him likable, so it was sad to see him lose. Hopefully he’ll get to assist Imaizumi when they’re 3rd years.

Originally posted by animagamefan

Little Witch Academia

This show’s a lot of fun, with really sweet animation and it also sports the Best Girl of the season, Sucy Manbavaaran, although I gotta say there were a bit too many fillerish episodes and it was frustrating to see them take so long to get the plot going. I’m not hating on the show, it is in fact extremely entertaining, but it’s a little lacking on the plot department. Hopefully we’ll get more of that on the second cour.

Classicaloid

I’ve never been happier of not quitting a show as I am about Classicaloid. By episode 3 I was on the verge of giving up because it wasn’t what I had expected, but I kept going and I ended falling so hard in love with this show I’m ecstatic it’s getting a second season. Once I embraced the absurdity, it became the best comedy of the season, and I honestly would watch Schubert’s fishy misadventures for 52 weeks a year. It’s an acquired taste for sure and not easy to recommend, but if you’re willing to let go of all reason, you’re sure to have a good time.

Originally posted by mimimochi

All Out!!

I have a lot of love for this show and its characters (and Sekizan’s ridiculous hair), but I’m afraid the pacing they chose basically doomed them because with the abysmal sales, it seems unlikely we’ll ever see a second season and therefore we’ll never get to see if Jinko does get to Hanazono. It’s a perfectly competent sports series, that does a really good job of developing its huge cast, definitely much better than the likes of Prince of Stride or DAYS, but its inconclusive ending is quite frustrating. I really do hope we get to see more of these boys, but Madhouse’s never been all that good with the whole getting-sequels-done so…

Originally posted by dexicon

Kuzu no Honkai

In spite of its low ranking, this is actually a really good show and a unique take on teenage female sexuality that you wouldn’t normally see in this mostly sexist medium. Hanabi made for a truly interesting protagonist and I liked seeing her explore herself and her relationships. I was however quite disappointed by how little focus we actually had for Hanabi and Mugi’s relationship. I felt there was more telling than showing in that regard, especially in the latter half of the show. The ending was pretty good and mature in spite of everything, and as always, I’m just really fond of all the vaginal imagery in the ED animation. Could’ve done without Moca though.

Originally posted by jyoshikausei

Gundam: Tekketsu Orphans

At the end of the Fall season, I expressed my concern about pointless, meaningless deaths. Clearly the Gundam writers thought I wasn’t concerned enough because the amount of characters that died pointless deaths went on to, I think, the double digits. I wouldn’t have minded the carnage if there had been some sort of payoff to the sacrifices. For example, if Shino hadn’t stupidly and conveniently missed his one shot because the show couldn’t afford to kill Rustal yet. I always felt Orga, Mika and Akihiro had a ton of death flags looming over their heads, but I certainly didn’t expect all three of them to get to the chopping block. Orga’s death was particularly random and pointless, but then again, what they did with Orga in general was very confusing. That he agreed to McGillis’s sketchy propositions to become “king of Mars” never made a whole lot of sense to me and that’s the result we got. I’ll also never get over how creepy and weird the whole Atra giving Mika a baby thing was. In short, I have very mixed feelings about it.

Originally posted by shokugekis

Hand Shakers

I could write thousands of words for everything that was wrong with this series but I think it wouldn’t make justice to the absolute experience that is watching this amazing trainwreck. Go watch it to see a masterclass of how not to anime. Honestly I had such a good time hating this show, it was so horrible in every possible way. Good job GoHands, even animate, who sponsored this show, won’t give it any publicity.

Super Lovers

I’m not sure of how this production team managed to put out 20 episodes of nothing actually happen. Like you just have to give kudos to the writers for managing to simply not do anything over the course of 6~ hours of content. No drama, no decent comedy, no character development, not even relationship development in a BL romance. It’s kind of amazing how pointless the whole thing is. The dog’s still cute and the relationship is still creepy and gross and that’s about all there is to say about this.

Although most of the shows I watched turned out great, it did feel like a weaker season because there wasn’t that much that was interesting (my Wednesdays were literally empty). Or maybe everything looks lackluster in this post-Yuri on Ice world D: But there was Rakugo and rakugo is good and I’m glad we live in an age in which such a niche, quiet and adult artistic show could be made and tell a complete story.

(s)EVEN MORE Study Moods

Soooo I have received requests for another one of these!

(first) (second)

So you SWEAR you need to study for finals week, but you just can’t. Maybe try these? Pick your favorite, or do one each day of finals week!

  • The Sleeping Beauty: Lavender tea, Disney songs, doing math problems on your futon.
    • Beware! This mood, comfy as it is, might result in unintended naps - indulge wisely.
  • The Work-Hard Play-Hard: Mocktails, Ke$ha, playing go-fish to learn vocab terms in a lounge.
    • Hey, studying can be fun! Round up friends taking French or Bio with you, make some playing cards (”Do you have ‘the method through which animals make ATP?” “Nope, don’t have cellular respiration, go fish!” or “Est-ce que tu as ‘un poisson’?” “Yeah, I have a fish. Dangit.”) and have a study party.
  • The Holiday Spirit: Eggnog, carols, creating mnemonics somewhere with holiday decorations.
    • Hey, it’s Hanukkah right now, Christmas is soon, and it’s almost break. One of those things probably excites you at least a little, so get in the spirit!
  • The Summer Child: Mango smoothie, the Beach Boys, creating timeline somewhere warm.
    • On the other hand, some people just don’t like winter, and that’s okay. Pretend it isn’t!
  • The Music Major: Bubbler water, orchestral music, writing analysis papers in a basement.
    • Okay, this one is mostly just based on my own personal experiences. However, it is pretty good at preventing distractions!
  • The Technomancer: Mountain Dew or Dr. Pepper, dubstep, making presentations in a computer lab.
    • Hey, if you’re going to spend a couple hours tethered to a computer to finish that powerpoint, you may as well get in the mood. You’re an 80′s hacker now. Congratulations.
  • The Yuppie: A venti caramel macchiato (Skim, Extra Shot, Extra-Hot, Extra-Whip, Sugar-Free), Vampire Weekend, making family trees at the coffee shop that your drink order just annoyed.
    • Okay, I do have an order like this, so this is all in good fun. This is really good for making you feel #Fancy, though, so if that’s what you need, go for it!

Don’t stress about doing exactly these - they’re suggestions! Mix and match at your leisure.

Go forth and study! Let finals never bring you down!

You Got It Bad

A/N: this is for @amarvelouswritings 2k follower celebration. It’s based off of prompts 19 “what? No, I never said that…” & 28 “if I kissed you right now, what would you do”

Pairings: Bucky x reader mentions of Steve & Natasha

Warnings: mentions of violence & fighting, sassy Bucky & reader, it’s Bucky & he never behaves for me so yes there’s smut.

Enjoy!!!


“Is that the best you’ve got old man?” To say you loved sparring with Bucky would be a gross understatement. It was the highlight of your day. Not only was he a fantastic trainer but the verbal sparring was always amazing as well.

“Remember who you’re fighting little one, you may have bitten off more than you can handle.” “Not a chance Frosty, I can handle anything you throw at me. We both know I’m the best you’ve ever trained.” “What? I never said that. Why would I say that?” While Bucky is too busy scoffing at your words, you quickly get your legs around his & take him down. You can’t contain your smirk before getting up & strutting away. “Whatever you say old man.” the door closes & Sam can’t contain his laugh at Barnes on the floor, metal arm thrown over his eyes. “Maaan you have got it BAD! When are you gonna make a move? You know she won’t be single forever right? I’m pretty sure Gary from accounting is about to finally work up the courage to ask her out.” Bucky glares at him before leaving the room, murder strut on full display.

Sam knew he shouldn’t mess with the soldier but he just can’t help himself. While he knows Gary is interested, he also knows that Gary has been shot down by you. You only have eyes for Bucky. But Bucky didn’t have to know that.

After a quick shower you decide to lay on the couch & watch Netflix, it was a Leverage kind of day. Just as you hit play, a large body flops on top of yours, you grunt despite Bucky keeping most of his weight on his metal arm….oh that arm…no! Bad y/n he’s your friend & mentor & totally doesn’t see you that way.

“Doll if you think any harder, you’re going to have smoke coming out of your ears. What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” You scramble for something to say before seeing your favorite blue eyed hitter walk into frame. Perfect! “Oh nothing much Bucky. I was just wondering, you didn’t happen to father any kids at some point did you? I mean look at this guy, he’s got beautiful brown hair, piercing blue eyes, he’s got that thing he does with his eyes that I’m pretty sure could kill people & not to mention he’s got your murder strut. I’m calling it Barnes, old man winter has a really hot kid or grandkid.” Bucky is silent for a bit before falling off the couch laughing, when he finally catches his breath all he can do is shrug. “Who the fuck knows doll, I was about to say no way but honestly anything is possible. I vaguely remember Winter getting around a lot during missions. He liked to go rogue when the brainwashing started breaking down, it’s possible.”

Well you weren’t expecting that and you don’t really have an answer except to laugh & pull him back up on the couch. He snuggles into your neck & you’re both out within a few minutes. Neither of you hearing Sam squeal & take a picture that he quickly runs to show Steve & Nat.

After the picture of y'all snuggling had made its rounds, unbeknownst to the two of you, the betting pool was in full swing. Unfortunately for Gary who had apparently made the mistake of opening his mouth within earshot of Natasha, the spy definitely didn’t take his comments well and it was only due to Steve reluctantly intervening that he survived the encounter.

Unfortunately all bets would have to wait until after the upcoming mission. Word had come that a dead Hydra base wasn’t so dead after all so everyone suited up, Thor & Loki coming from Asgard to assist.

The fight quickly heated up but that didn’t stop you & Bucky from sassing each other almost constantly. Of course this also lead to you both getting separated from the group but that wasn’t a surprise.

“Kinda moving slow there Sarge, you getting tired? I thought you had super stamina.” “Oh I’ll show you super stamina doll, just give me the chance.” “Not sure you could handle me Sarge, I tend to be insatiable after a good fight.” You didn’t get to hear what Bucky’s response would’ve been because suddenly a shot rang out & before you could blink Bucky was on the ground holding his side. He’d taken a bullet for you, he was going to pay for that later. You’d make sure of it.

A voice calls out from the darkness, “well if it isn’t the famed fist of Hydra, looking at you now I have to say I don’t see what the big deal is. You take a bullet for some little bitch & now you’re on the floor. They’d be very disappointed in you.” “Did he really just call me a bitch?” “That’s what I heard doll.” “that fucking dick twizzler.” “Well in his defense he doesn’t know you. Plus he’s Hydra, what more can you expect?” “Seriously? You’re defending the shit head that just shot you?” Bucky shrugs but before he can respond the agent speaks up, not appreciating being ignored. “So what, you find a woman & now you’re all weak? How disappointing. This definitely makes my victory a little less sweet.” “Oh actually I’m perfectly capable of getting up & ripping you head off with my right hand. But that would be too nice. You see, it’s not me you have to worry about. It’s her.” The agent begins to scoff but is stopped by your punch hitting him directly in the solar plexus. The fight is intense but it’s clear you’re just toying with him.

Hearing the shot & ensuing fight, Steve quickly ran to assist but seeing how much fun you were obviously having & the sappy smile on Bucky’s face he just goes to assist his lovesick friend. “Are you serious jerk? That is obviously a flesh wound, it will heal before we get back home. Are you really just going to sit there smiling like an idiot? “ “I can’t help it punk, she’s just too perfect. I mean look at that kick, the knife flip & don’t get me started on the thigh lock.” Steve has to agree that’s a perfect thigh lock, though he’s aware Natasha is listening so he’s not about to do more than grunt.

“Bucky I swear if you don’t say something soon, I’m gonna lose my shit. The girl you love is fighting & you’re looking at her like she’s walking down the aisle towards you.” “Well maybe this is what my dream wedding would be like punk. I bet Tony could become an ordained minister in like 10 minutes & marry us before fuck face over there gets punch drunk.” Pinching his nose the exasperated Captain sighs. He’s too old for this shit, he needs a vacation. I bet Natasha loves the tropics, I’d kill to see Nat in that tiny bikini again…..or out of it. Focus Steve!! Corral the morons, then you can pin Nat to the nearest available surface. “Buck, this isn’t pirates of the Caribbean & Tony definitely isn’t Barbosa & please don’t give him any ideas.” “Hey I’m totally Captain Barbosa!!!!” Steve groans, can they stick him back in the ice now?

“Come on y/n just knock his ass out already for fucks sake!!!” Smirking from atop the agents shoulders you quickly land a punch to the base of his skull then bounce over to the clearly…frustrated Captain & pout at him. “Aww I was having fun Stevie.” “whatever kiddo, let’s get the bleeding idiot back to the quinjet.”

Steve was right about Bucky healing before y'all got home. Good thing too because as soon as you landed, Gary made the unwise decision to run up to welcome you home, stupidly missing the murder eyes being given to him by the soldier at your side. Bucky figured his good deeds were done for the day & he really didn’t think the government would forgive him for happily murdering their agent.

Instead he grabbed you & threw you over his shoulder & murder strutted the fuck out of there. Your fists pounding his back has no effect and it only makes the team laugh harder, you can feel his chest rumbling as he tries to silence his own. He finally sits you down outside his door, now that he has you alone, he can’t help but feel nervous.

“Y/n?” “Yeah Bucky?” “if i kissed you right now, what would you do?” thankfully your mouth forms the words your brain refuses to produce. “Why don’t you try it & find out?” Time slows to a crawl as he threads his hands into your hair. Searching your eyes for any doubt, he finally presses his lips to yours in a bone melting kiss. Time finally begins to move normally as you blindly fall into his room, clothes flying in all directions. He shreds your panties, snickering at your quickly hushed protest.

You finally get your full view of his body when he tosses you on the bed. You take a moment to look at each other, appreciating every line, curve - scar. For once neither of you feel self conscious, you can’t when the love is so obviously shining in each other’s eyes. Words aren’t necessary.

Breaking the mutual appreciation, Bucky launches onto the bed making you both laugh. You begin kissing and touching every available place on each other. You’re both so worked up that foreplay isn’t even required. But where’s the fun in that? Rolling to where you’re on top, Bucky wastes no time spinning you so that you’re sitting on his face, licking a broad stripe up to your clit before circling it with his tongue. You cry out, wanting to just enjoy what he’s doing to you but you can see his cock already rock hard & leaking. You immediately take him as far down as you can into your throat, drawing a loud growl from the soldier beneath you at the unexpected pleasure coursing through him.

The vibrations of his voice triggers your orgasm and you can feel him throb in your throat but before he can cum he pulls you up roughly and rolls you beneath him and thrusts in agonizingly slow. You moan against each other’s lips as he finally enters you fully. Needing a moment to adjust, he rests his forehead on yours. “I love you y/n” I love you James” hearing his name from your lips snaps his control & he sets a brutal pace that’s perfect for the built up adrenaline & sexual tension. Feeling you begin to tighten around him, he quickly slides his metal hand between you to circle your clit. “Ah fuck doll, I can feel you’re close doll. Cum for me love.” Arching your back, you cum screaming his name.

He sits up, lifting your hips and pounds into you immediately triggering another orgasm as he cums deep inside you. Screaming your name and a truly impressive mix of Russian and English swears. He falls over you and tries to catch his breath. You trade slow kisses and soft touches as you both come down from your highs. He pulls out of you with a hiss & quickly gets a warm cloth to clean you both.

He pulls you to rest on his chest, his metal arm cooling your overheated skin. Everything is quiet until he starts laughing softly “doll, you should’ve seen that assholes face when Steve walked up & sat down beside me. Pretty sure he was questioning every choice he ever made.” He shows you the picture he managed to take and you both dissolve into giggles which are quickly interrupted by Steve & Nat pounding on your adjoining wall & Steve yelling “while we all appreciate y'all FINALLY fucking out all that sexual tension..” “And winning us the bet!!” “NAT!!!” “Oh come on Steve, like you’re not TOTALLY excited for two weeks on Tony’s private island” “…Ok Natasha is right but THE REST OF US WOULD STILL LIKE TO SLEEP TONIGHT!!!!!” “SHUT UP PUNK” you both laugh some more before snuggling down & quickly falling asleep. Everything finally as it should be.

Thanks so much for reading guys. As usual, I hope y'all enjoy it.

@bolontiku @ryverpenrad @frenchtherainbow @theimpossibleg1rl @ms-potts-to-you @misshyen @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @mermanbuckybarnes @irachyrooposts @swtwtrgin @pegasusdragontiger @tilltheendwilliwrite

2

little ways to help you feel happier :

1. eat healthier foods and try to drink lots of water. i’m trying to eat enough to keep my body going all through the day. it’s okay if you feel uncomfortable eating a large amount or unhealthy foods, just break it into smaller portions of nutritional things that give you energy and help your recovery.

2. keep your room as light and tidy as possible. in the winter it can get really gloomy and oppressive so it’s important to let light in and not stay in the darkness. i try and make sure my room is really tidy because honestly it helps my anxiety a lot and makes me feel more in control.

3. if you feel uncomfortable doing something, or if it is making you feel bad, don’t do it !!!! it could be as simple as sleeping with your door open or as complex as talking to someone you love, if it isn’t helping you, just don’t do it. it’s not worth it, and chances are if it’s a big thing and it affects other people they will understand and give you space.

4. try and get up and shower and get ready for the day every day !! it’s okay to have days where you feel so down you don’t want to do anything but on most days try and make sure you aren’t letting your depression keep you tied down.

5. talk to your friends and spend time with them !! honestly they care about you lots and lots and you may find venting to them or telling them some of your problems helps you out a lot. it can be really good to let your friends know a basic outline of what you’re struggling with at the moment, and things they can do to help make it easier. meet with them, invite them round, just spend time with them because they love you and you don’t realise how lucky you are to have them.

6. learn to love yourself. it’s really difficult to do and i still struggle with body image, but try to see the beauty in your body and accept your flaws. buy yourself nice underwear and body glitter and things because you’re beautiful and the sooner you realise that the better things will be.

7. put your feelings out there. don’t keep your bad thoughts in your head whatever you do because they cause more trouble than they’re worth. i like to write and also paint, but other people have different ways of putting out their feelings and i know some things don’t work for everyone.

8. just try and feel hopeful that you will be okay. it’s really tough and some days you feel like you’re back on square one but honestly it will all be worth the pain once you feel happier and more in control of things. you will only start to feel happier if you believe you can, and if you constantly think you are never going to be okay, you probably won’t. i’m not saying you can just do it, but your attitude and mood towards recovery affects it a lot.

9. it’s 100% okay to ask for help. whoever and whatever makes you feel a bit better is completely okay and counselling or medication are options that can save lives. it can be hard to get help and i get that, but it’s so worth it. seeing someone even once a month can help you feel less alone and speaking to someone who has good strategies and ways to help you can really make a difference.

10. your feelings are 100% valid. never think you “aren’t sick enough” for something, and if you feel like you can’t face something because of mental health, don’t push too hard. at the same time, don’t act like you’re okay if you’re not. it won’t help you, you can’t trick yourself into thinking you’re okay if you aren’t. accept how you’re feeling and think about how you can change that. remember every time you feel a little bit better it matters! it means something !


getting better is something that takes a long time and it is one of the hardest things you will have to do. some days you will feel like you’ll be stuck like this forever, and other days you will feel like you’re completely okay. it’s important to remember that even when you’re better, there will still be tough days, there will still be triggers, there will still be things you have to face, but that doesn’t make you weak or your happiness any less valid. everyone has bad days and good days, and i promise you one day there will be so many happy days ✨✨ xx

Warm Me Up Ch. 34

OH SNAP-WHAT’S THAT- A NEW CHAPTER FUCK YEAH, (To the tune of Usnavi’s excitement after getting a date with Vanessa. Can you tell I’m obsessed? Also, listen to Lady Gaga’s A Million Reasons as well as Secondhand Serenade’s Fall for You and Tori Kelly’s/ Ed Sheeran’s I Was Made For Loving You for this chapter <3)

Click Here for Ch. 1

Click Here for Ch. 33

index

It wasn’t until a little past noon that Will got worried. He hadn’t gotten a text from Nico, and when he called, Nico didn’t answer. He pulled Kayla along past the HEB and hefted a few bags in his other hand. “Come on, Princess time to go home. You sure you don’t want help with the bag?”

“I got it. I wanna give it to him.” Will smiled and nodded, walking along the sidewalk. The sun was beating down, but the wind that blew around them offered enough relief. Kayla bounded along in a pink sundress with her red hair pulled up into a ponytail, skipping over cracks in the sidewalk. Suddenly, Kayla stopped, causing Will to falter. “Look, it’s Nico!”

He frowned and looked up to see Nico pacing back and forth with a cigarette in one hand as his other ran through his hair. Immediately, Will felt the instinct to go to him and find out what was wrong. “Come on,” he told his sister, gripping her hand as they crossed at a light.

“Why is he smoking?” she asked as he pulled her along. “Isn’t that bad?” Will didn’t answer, his eyes on Nico as he paced. “Will, I’m scared,” Kayla whimpered.

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” he assured. “Just hold on a second, okay?” He reached the bus stop and reached out, stopping Nico mid-pace. He jumped, and looked up with frightened, tear-filled eyes. “What happened, Nico, what’s wrong?” he asked anxiously.

Keep reading

2

//10 jan 2017//

these are a few of my favorite things…

This was my beautiful hotel room in Atlanta, the Marriott Marquis! The view was gorgeous, the blankets and pillows were perfectly fluffy. I had to resist going up to take a nap at every occasion.

JMM was super cool, but I think the coolest thing I got was this book called “Math Girls” by Hiroshi Yuki. The editor and translator were at the meeting and told me that it’s 20% romance novel and 80% math text!! It’s such an awesome resource and I can’t wait to read it. I usually don’t read books longer than 200 pages, but for this I’ll make an exception!

Also pictured are my bullet journal (from Muji) and my “I am very busy” pencil bag that @zombienoether got me for Christmas!!

So what did you do for winter break?