#but i always have to urge to finish my thesis first

[jamieedlund]

Darling~ darling, please show me[ a sign.]✨❄

🍀Lucky🍀

I am aware that I'm very late for his birthday but happy really really late birthday Aaravos. You never forget your first --- 5000s -th birthdays! 🎂🎂🎂

Bonus what their conversation is like because these two can literally talk about anything I stg---

He's the calmest mage that has ever maged in true combat because he was already fighting for his life during training... 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

And now some bonus November doodles because I had so many ideas for his birthday but no time or health to finish them---

He just can.

Winter is here~❄🧍‍♂️⛄please hold hands with your love ones and stay warm! Enjoy the festivities and have a great one.

This is Aaravos! Aaravos does not know how to receive and or respond to genuine love and affection! Don't be like Aaaravos! Be sure to tell the people you treasure that you love them and respond to the love you receive properly!!

Don't be like Aaaravos.

[licorice-tea]

Could I Be Loved By You?

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader, Roronoa Zoro x reader, Trafalgar Law x reader (separate)

Content: pure fluff<3

Word Count: 0.7k (total)

A/N: short head cannons are something i haven’t really written before, so i hope these are still good! im in class rn but i got bored so i just finished writing sanji’s lmao- please enjoy! :)

Part 2

What happens when you ask them; “Do you think we’re together in every universe?”

Vinsmoke Sanji - 0.2k

“Sanji, sweetheart-“

“Yes, love?”

You smile softly at him before continuing. “Do you think we’d be together in every universe?”

Sanji doesn't even take a moment to consider his answer- he simply blurts out; “Yes. Always.”

A giggle escapes your lips, which come to press a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know what other answer I could have expected from you.”

“I have more to say, if you'd like to hear it of course.”

“Mhm.” You nod.

Sanji clears his throat with a flourish, as if he's about to present some grandeur speech. “You are the love of my life- and of all my lives. Without getting to love you and be loved by you, I don’t think I’d be able to go on. So, naturally, we would be together in every universe. If not; it must be a world where I don’t exist.” Then, he takes your hands in his. “My love, I’d be yours in any universe you’d have me in.”

Your gentle smile grows into a full blown grin and, naturally, your lips are drawn to his.

Roronoa Zoro - 0.2k

“Do you think we’re together in every universe, Zoro?”

He shrugs, and starts fiddling with his swords. They lean against the same wall that the two of you are sitting on, his legs crossed around the spot where they hit the floor and yours pressed up against your chest.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? We’re together here.”

You simply hum in response. It was unreasonable to except something poetic from him in the first place.

“But I hope we are.”

At this, your ears perk up. You turn to face him with wide eyes.

“I just mean… I hope I’ve done enough to deserve you in other lifetimes.”

The corners of your lips quirk up in a smile, and your arms encircle his much larger and more solid one. “You do more than enough in this one. Don’t worry about that.”

Zoro smiles too- not only at your words, but the tickle of your breath against his neck when you speak.

He really doesn’t care to imagine other universes- not when a mere moment with you is enough to take up all the space in his mind for hours on end- but Zoro will still always indulge your whims.

Trafalgar Law - 0.3k

“Law.”

He looks up from his book at your urgent tone. “Yes?”

“Do you think we’re together in every universe?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, of course.”

You tilt your head, silently urging him to continue. He doesn’t though- and he won’t indulge your curiosity without verbal reassurance. So, you give in.

“Why? I was expecting a full thesis with supporting evidence from you, smartass.”

Law shuts his book. “Ahem; Then, I believe that we would be together in every universe because… well, we’re together now. It’s the natural order of things, so why would that change in a supposed parallel universe?”

He’s such a nerd. You want to kiss him.

But instead, you just shrug. “Things happen.”

“Then I’d like to think that our relationship is still a constant.” He finishes off the topic with that. What reason could you have for wondering if you would still love each other in other universes, anyway? The answer is so glaringly obvious- to him, at least. He continues, this time teasing you. “Now, did you have a genuine question, or are we just proposing hypotheticals tonight?” Law smirks at you, but his cheeks are growing pinker by the second. It’s a futile attempt to cover how endearing he finds the thought.

With a satisfied shake of your head, you turn on your heel. “Nope! That was all.” And when you reach the hall outside his office, you poke your head back in. “Love you!”

Law pulls his hat down further, props his book up higher, and sinks into his chair. His voice is a quiet mumble as he returns the sentiment. “Love you too.” Which, he really does; he’s just a little shy.

[hekate1308]

And That Special Quiet On Christmas Morn, A Destiel Advent Calendar, December 6

Read it on AO3

Masterpost

At first, Dean, in this new weird part of his life, didn’t realize that no one could hear Castiel but him. This was mostly because the painting only ever talked when they were alone, probably because he didn’t want to shock anyone else the way he had Dean. But then Sam came to visit, as he often did in the evenings.

“Are you still working?”

“I was just finishing up” he told him honestly. He was very aware that otherwise, Sam would have told him off. He had already been quite angry when he had heard about the roof since he had seen it as another proof that Dean didn’t pay enough attention to what had to be done when he was in his workshop.

As he put his tools away, he looked at Castiel and wondered if he should introduce them, but he took the decision away from him when he said, “Hello, Sam.”

He didn’t react. Dean looked at the painting again, but there was nothing he could do about it. Sam couldn’t hear him which most likely meant no one else could either.

He was very aware that this was another point in favour ofd the losing his mind theory, but on the other hand, his brother clearly hadn’t noticed anything amiss, and he was the one who knew him best, so he probably didn’t have to be too worried yet.

So he continued to be the only one Castiel had ever spoken to, that was something he supposed. He threw him another glance.

“You do not have to apologize”.

Castiel might not have known much about how the world worked, but he got Dean. It was a really weird thought, especially because he’d rarely clicked with people like that in real life.

“Dean?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. Was thinking about stuff.”

“You work too much.”

And of coruse said old discussion would rear its head.

“You really do spentd a lot of time ihere.”

And now Casti9el was in on it, too. Wonderful. Sam would have appreciated it if he could have heard him.

“I have orders, and the Christmas market is coming up.”

“As if you don’t have enough stuff already.”

“Still… wouldn’t want to disappoint people.”

“Dean, you’ve never disappointed anyone in your life.”

It was one of those things that Sam now and then said that made him uncofmrotabel so he didn’t reply anything, chosing to focus on putting the rest of his toold away.

“And you’re sure the roof is fixed?”

“You know Crowley, he wouldn’t bring anyone but the best.”

Sam frowned, but that was nothing new – his brother nad friend had never gotten along, as a matter of fact, Sam kept telling him that Crowley was sure to eventually go full supervillain because he didn’t get him.

“Woulödn’t let me pay” Dean therefore continued.

He would say that – it was always fun to see Sam struggle to comprehend that Crowley could do a decent thing if he wanted to. “That was nice of him” he forced out.

“Yes, well, mostly I wiush he wouldn’t keep doing that kind of stuff. He just shows up, does what he wants, and leaves.”

“Isn’t that how Crowley operates?”

He shrugged. “I suppose. Anyway, want a beer?”

As they left the workshop, he had to suppress the urge to tell Castiel goodbye, as he had grown used to over the past fgew days.

He really was going insane, wasn’t he.

And yet, after he’d handed Sam his beer, his brother said, “You look well.”

He couldn’t help but blink at him before saying, “I am?”

“That’s not what I meant. You don’t look so run down.”

Once more, he didn’t knbow what to say. “Well, I’m having fun. You know I love my jobn. And Christmas is coming up.”

Sam’s eyes softened. “I know.”

Thesy wer esilnet for a moment as they both remembered the Christmases of their early years that perhaps should not have been called Christmases in the first place. Dean had always tried his hardest to make sure that Sam got a few presents, not that this meant much when one was only seven years old and didn’t understand why one’s dad wouldn’t just go out and get them a tree…

Well, they always had one now, and a big party because if you asked Dean, he had earned that much, and so far people had never complained.

He suddenly wondered what they would say if he announced that he had a magical painting, but decided it was not a good idea.

“Anyway, so what are you up to? I assume there’s another very complicated case you have to deal with.”

“You know that’s not how it works.”

“Close nough for me.”

Sam gave him a bitch face and Dean laughed.

[philipmco110]

Blog 2: Process Writing

I've gone into some detail on my own writing process already, but I haven't described how I write yet. So, after I've done some research and finished my bullet points I start to write. This is a painful process. I tend to start my drafts at a great pace and I think my writing is strongest at that point but things deteriorate quickly. I have a bad habit of constantly going through what I've just written to change something and this will cascade through what I've already written which makes me want to change other portions. This will continue throughout the entire writing process. It's a very long and often confusing mess of rewrites, deletes, copy and pastes and general dismay.

Eventually I do get somewhere and I'll have what is hopefully a decent and intelligible draft. I'll read through it once, fixing any glaring issues, and then trim away any fat (this may or may not be the case depending on the required word length). From there the essay will get one more once over, in case I missed anything. Then I will submit the thing as soon as possible so as to avoid the urge to delete it entirely.

Currently, this is my writing process.

For the future I'd like to implement some of the changes that are proposed in Jack Hart's guide. It had never occurred to me that it's possible to just blow through the first draft to maintain that flow of ideas. I think that will likely speed up my writing by quite a bit. Also his ideas towards research seem obvious, and I'd like to think that I do research effectively but the truth is, I don't. Oftentimes I will start my research phase without having a full grasp of my thesis. I'll try to follow his advice on getting a full understanding of what I want to say before jumping too heavily into the fact finding.

I've always known that it was important to have a writing process, and I could have probably told you why it was important. I could have done that all while not fully understanding it myself. I don't really have a writing process yet (apart from procrastinating) so I understand the issues that come with "winging it". Having an established process keeps you organized and sets you clear objectives. That will always make life easier, especially when you're tasked to write on a subject in a long and very detailed way.

[abyssalcreator21]

Pandemic Thoughts # 158

Today is the last day of the wellness week. The week was alright and I have enjoyed at least a week off. Away from the thoughts of thesis but yet there are still general assemblies and meetings that I have attended throughout the week. To be honest, going outside nowadays is different and I can felt to myself that it is exhausting compared to before. The weather has changed. Temperature rises at least 36 to 38 Celsius in peak 8 A.M to 3 P.M. Sudden change of the weather during the midday in some days. The usual issues with the ongoing climate change due to greenhouse gases like carbon dioxide.

I also felt more irritable and stressed lately due also to the fact that I have been reprimanded by my frequent 1 hour delay posting on social media and also with several things which I don't realize yet. Discovering after all what are my other triggers helps me to cope up with my anger management issues. And, silence for me is delicate nowadays. In honesty, I tend to be easily more annoyed also with too much noise around me and I really hate it when I get disturbed whenever I am doing something, maybe most of the time, chilling the fuck out. But I am wary of my responsibilities after all with our thesis paper and other subjects. Finally, we are almost at the end of our fieldwork on Monday and we can now totally finish it within this week our data gathering. The most difficult part of the storm is coming to end and we are on a smooth course on finishing our paper within the next two months. One of things also that keeps me motivated right now is our first meet with my wife. Well, I really wanted her to be my partner after all that we've been throughout the nine months. To assess our relationship and how we keep it strong. I know and my girlfriend know that we are in the verge right now that our kilig factor is now diminishing and we are now in most of the days of our relationship, getting bored out. Especially in my part as a guy, I admit to myself I have been bored and entertain other girls just for the usual fun I did when I was single back then. But, things are different right now. My words means something deep for my girlfriend and I want to make it come true. She deserves a man, not just some guy that has her as a convenience. Yes, I am still on the process of controlling myself to avert my sexual urges and distract myself from that ideas. Although, it is hard to manage that I can avert my habits but I am glad that I see changes within myself also. At least I have my sense of achievement of not letting my girlfriend go back to those times when I was just a piece of an ass with our relationship. I am really trying to get better after all for the both of us.

Within this week also, I met new people and I have tried to interact with them. Honestly, I can say to myself that I have adjusted at least in my social skills. I can handle conversations and go with the flow. That is what I learned in drinking with freshmen who has higher alcohol tolerances than me. Well, it was the 6th or 7th one at least when I had a drink with a group of people. Truly, you can learn a lot in dealing with other people when you are just having fun. Advantage for me is I am talkative nowadays and I always intend to spark a conversation if possible to people who want to talk with me. I am glad that Rocky at least help me enjoyed one of the best night outs so far. I hope I can experience more of it once we are almost at the finish line of the first chapter of our lives.

Lastly, I have fun cosplaying during the general assembly. It was fun dressing up in a non-cosplay event. I just tried to cosplay for a non cosplay event just for the sake of experience. And, it was a delight for me and kind of awkward for some cosplayers that knows me. Well, I really have to be aware much of the responsibilities I hold representing a community in the city after all, especially in cosplaying. I wonder how my pictures look though, hahahaha. Excited for the final results.

[ptrghassani]

Knowing My Self

Just finished reading: Better Than Before by Gretchen Rubin. It's a book about making and breaking habits, with strategies that could be chosen based on people tendencies. I thought, it will be a waste to read this without (trying to) implementing it. Although I already did some of the strategies un/consciously, being more aware of my self is always a good starting point. So here I am trying to do the first step of improving my habits: self knowledge.

Gretchen observes four types of people in terms of how we act to expectations: 1. Upholder: responds to outer and inner expectations 2. Questioner: question all expectations, and only reacts to it if the answer is justified 3. Obliger: responds readily to outer expectations, but hard to keep track of inner expectations 4. Rebel: resist all expectations, outer and inner alike. But more likely to follow inner expectations

At first, I realize my self as an obliger. Easier to follow formal deadlines (school project, thesis meeting with supervisor) rather than internal deadlines (self-made milestones for the project or thesis), that's why I procrastinate a lot because the urge is there once the due is nearby. There are a lot of aspects of me connects to the obliger identity. I like to work at the library or cafe, where someone could SEE ME, hence I slack less knowing that people are around, it's one of my outer accountability. On the other hand, when it comes to exercise, I always like running but never consistent. It makes me not progressing, as if I monitored the progress anyway. But I always do it alone. Sure, I found it easier and more fun to run with a friend. I also realize that going running with someone makes me nervous sometimes because I cannot run that far yet. Okay I'm going everywhere now haha focus. I rely on inner expectations when it comes to things I believe will make my life, my body, or even my feelings better. For example, the exercise (now I do it regularly), eating healthier food (more nutritious breakfast, less oily lunch, healthier snack), reading a book, using skincare, and etc. I think this means I am a questioner as well in some aspects of my life, not all. Then if I wanna change something, I should ask my self first, which tendencies are you leaning towards in this matter?.

On the top of the tendencies, the author divided two categories of people in different subjects:

Am I a lark or an owl? I thought I was a quarter-owl, because I did my work a lot at night (in working or in masters) but not so late until past midnight. You know what? I never liked or enjoyed it. I always wish I did it during the day so I would have my night time to rest and do other things. Most of the time I worked with half shut-down brain too. The thing is, I am a lark that sleeps like a koala. "I should go to sleep earlier" "But I still sleep 7 hours even if I slept at midnight!" That is the culprit. Yes, it is hard to change my habit into waking up earlier, it feels like my brain always sleeping around 10 AM after that. Surprising to me, I can still do a lot of things in the morning and work more efficiently with that sleepy brain. Morning sleepy-brain is better than the night one. Am I a marathoner, a sprinter, or a procrastinator? As bad as it sounds, I am a procrastinator, sadly. Trying to be a marathoner because sprinting will damage my heart.

Am I an underbuyer or an overbuyer? Never think of my self this way, I am an underbuyer. I postpone (procrastinator much?) buying thing I NEED countless time. Shopping, especially online, drains me out. Even that I love looking at clothes, it stills tires me.

Am I a simplicity lover or and abundance lover? Simplicity. My mind get foggy if my surrounding seem or sound like a mess.

Am I a finisher or an opener? A finisher for food, and books. An opener for personal projects (scrapbook, blogspot posts -> obliger detected)

Am I a familiarity lover or a novelty lover? I can say familiarity in limited time, then I need novelty once in awhile.

Am I a promotion-focused or a prevention-focused? Prevention-focused on treating and connecting with people. Promotion-focused otherwise.

Do I like to take small steps or big steps? Small steps. Of course "small" is subjective to each person. I did answer this in my head while I was reading the book. There are things that I'm quite surprised but also things I've always known. Honestly, it's fun to get to know my self this way. See you again in the part 2, self! Thank you for spending time with me tonight.

[yn-dreamlife]

Don't Think Anymore

A/N: School can get stressful and I know that, so have a short little comfort blurb I made, hopefully it'll help even just a little. Tbh this was going to be a bunch of filth but... idk.

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x reader

Description: your boyfriend can see how stressed you are so he wants to comfort you

Warnings: fluff, hints at a bdsm relationship, reader bites there fingers, more fluff

Your eyes stared ahead blankly, the thoughts no longer truly processing as you stared at your thesis. Your dissertation paper, one of the most important things you’ll write your whole college career. And you were dreading every moment of it.

Today was one of your longer days, starting at 5 a.m and only ending at 7 p.m. Not that you had class all day. But you had been working all day. Doing class work, trying to finish up homework, and then going back to this stupid paper.

And once you had gotten back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend you hadn’t gotten up from your desk. You had planned on spending only 15 minutes to write down a few thoughts, but when Shota walked in three hours later you hadn’t moved. Not. One. Inch.

“Babe? I’m home!” He had called placing his shoes on the rack by the door and hanging up his coat, he had dropped his briefcase prepared to have you jump into his arms and greet him like you always did but he was left disappointed.

“Y/n/n?” He called. He checked the kitchen and the bedroom, it looked like you weren’t even home.

“Y/n?!” He called again, worry growing in the seasoned pro until he stopped, he noticed the light peeking out from the door to his office. He walked over silently and slowly inched the door open.

He knew you studied in his office sometimes, often leaving sticky-notes with little notes to him in your wake that he would take with him to put on his computer at work and in drawers, threatening to expel students who mentioned it. When he looked into his office he saw you sitting there one knee draw to your chest as the other was placed normally. Your chin rested on your knee as you stared ahead.

You didn’t even acknowledge him when he stood beside you even going as far as spinning your chair to face him as he crouched down but you just continued to stare blankly.

“Y/n?” He whispered his hand cupping your cheek as he pulled your hand away from your mouth grimacing at the raw skin around your fingers making a mental note to place band-aids and lotion on your hands.

Your eyes flickered just barely but he knew you were coming back “hey there kitty,” he whispered as he felt you lean into his palm heavily.

“Sho…” you whispered now registering that your boyfriend was in front on you. “You home e’rly” you spoke words slurring slightly.

He frowned slightly, shaking his head “I’m home when I always get home, how long have you been sitting here pretty girl?”

You turn your head to the clock slowly, your body feeling like lead. “Um…” a heat flared to

your cheeks as your eyes widened. “Uh well… th-three hours….”

He raised one eyebrow with an unimpressed look. “I-I’m sorry sho I didn’t mean to! I was… I was just gonna write down… a few… a few thoughts and then… I don’t know what happened… this paper is just… so… so hard.”

By the end you could barely speak as you broke into hiccuped sobs. His look immediately softened, he was just upset you had overworked yourself again nothing more.

“Shhhh shhhh” he soothed softly “it’s okay kitty m’not mad. Jus’ worried ‘s all.” He murmured softly into your hair as he pulled you into his arms switching spots so he was now sitting in the chair and held you in his lap. He rubbed one hand up and down your back as he allowed you to hold the other and play with his fingers like you always did when you got nervous.

He found it endearing, even feeling a little prideful that it was him you latched onto whenever you got overwhelmed or stressed. He remembers the first time you had done so and how his heart raced, you two hadn't gotten together yet and frankly he himself wasn’t feeling all too great about Midnight's gala. You had been standing beside him seeing as you were his plus-one, you were young… younger than he thought he should be with, but thankfully Mic smacked… or screamed some sense into him saying how it was perfectly fine for there to be an age gap.

So he had asked you to be his plus one to the hero gala, it was the summer of your third year at the college Mic teaches at, he hadn't even known you were a student until he walked into Mics second classroom, because for some crazy reason this man was a pro hero and decided to teach at two separate colleges for multiple classes and still have a radio show. He first saw you while you were sitting and speaking with Mic assumingly about grades. And that was yet another thing Mic had to convince him was okay, after all Aizawa wouldn't be teaching you, you two weren’t even on the same campus, so it was perfectly fine for you to be a student and him a teacher.

When he showed up to pick you up for the hero gala- which would be your fifth date- his jaw had dropped. You were wearing a black dress that fit you perfectly both in body and personality. Mic teased him endlessly when you two first arrived because after all… black is Shotas color, something you had thought of when picking out the dress.

As you stood next to him he could tell something was wrong and just as he was about to ask he felt a warmth in his hand only to look down and see it was your hand, or rather your fingers. You were asking, silently if it was alright. Not that you hadn’t held hands before but he could tell you were just anxious, so he moved his hand closer to yours and you quickly latched onto him. Interlocking your fingers and hugging his arm to your chest. And a few moments later you found yourself absentmindedly playing with his fingers. From then on it was something you found yourself doing more and more as your relationship progressed, he just made you feel so safe.

You whined softly cuddling into him, “shhh it's alright pretty girl I'm gonna take care of you okay?” You nodded into his neck enjoying the soothing feeling that washed over you as he spoke. He walked you into the bedroom gently placing you on the bed removing your socks and shoes before swiftly heading to the bathroom to start a bath, putting in your favorite soaps providing a little bit of bubbles hoping they would make you happy.

When he returned he found you sitting up looking for him, “where’d y’go” you said softly standing and wrapping your arms around him, he pet your head softly.

“Jus’ went to start up a bath for you beautiful” He murmured as he placed a kiss to the crown of your head, “how about we get you in there, yeah?” you nodded, allowing him to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom as you mumbled something about closing your eyes for one second and suddenly he was gone, he simply just chuckled as he gently placed you on the sink and began removing your clothes.

After he removed your shirt he gently peppered your neck and shoulders with kisses, not lingering in any one spot just simply showing his appreciation for you. He removed your pants allowing his hands to map the expanse of your things but not going any further knowing you were tiered.

Once you were finally freed of all clothing he placed you in the bath before quickly and unceremoniously stripping himself to get in behind you. You leaned into his embrace quickly and melted into him. His firm chest being a place that had become your safe haven, as long as he was near you knew everything was okay.

Slowly as Shotas hands ran through your hair cleaning it gently you found yourself relaxing, thoughts of the stressful classes, and ridiculously hard paper drifting away. His hands worked wonders on the knots that had formed throughout your muscles essentially leaving you in a puddle between his legs.

Every gasp and moan of content was carefully evaluated to see how he should adjust his massage- if he should lessen up or go farther into one spot and you never even had to tell him because he was always right. By the end of it you were both pleasantly sedated and calm, you more so than him.

“You ready to get out?” He murmured as he gently ran his nose along the column of your neck.

You were quiet for a moment before you spoke, “I guess so…. But can we still cuddle?” Your words were slow and hazy sounding even to your own ears.

“Course we can, can’t leave my best girl all alone.” He says as he gently stands and urges you to do the same.

“I better be your only girl,” You mumble as he begins to drain the bathtub and dry you off.

He chuckles “you know you are.” he says with an eye roll but no part of him was truly annoyed as he saw the small smile adorning your features. He leaned down softly kissing each of the corners of your mouth.

As he moved to pull away you stopped him by wrapping an arm around his neck and properly pushing your lips against his own, it was short but the passion was there. “Ya’missed.” you mumbled against his lip and he chuckled once again.

You found yourself falling into giggles as he carried you to the bedroom. That was something you could always count on, whether it be after a scene or even just you overworking yourself Shota wouldn't allow you to lift a finger, doting on you the way he always says you deserve.

Gently placing you on the bed he moved into the closet to find you both some clothes and soon after he emerged from the closet with a pair of sweatpants slung on his hips and a t-shirt in his hands. Once he had slipped on a pair of comfortable panties and the t-shirt onto your body you allowed him to carefully place band-aids and lotion onto your fingers making sure to be gentle around the raw skin. After he was finished he carefully slipped both of you under the covers.

The silence was comfortable only filled with your breathing and the gentle pitter-patter of rain that had begun sometime during your bath. And although the bath had helped you found some of your previous anxiety seeping back into your body.

As if reading your thoughts, Shota spoke up, “Y’know, I’m really proud of you and all the work you’re doing. I know sometimes schooling isn’t the easiest thing, and I know keeping motivation when it gets hard can be even harder. But with that said I don’t want you to keep pushing yourself so hard. Don't let school take away what makes you you, that spark. And… I can try my best to help you, I know you like being independent and don't like asking for help but… we all need to ask for it sometimes.”

You turned your head up looking at him with tears shimmering in your eyes, “thank you Shota.”

He smiled at you fondly, “Of course, you're my precious girl after all.” He paused cupping your cheek and gently brushing a tear away, “I love you kitty.”

“I love you too Sho…. so much.”

[itstheoneshot]

PHD

Request

Summary: Your one on one sessions with your professor always tend to get a little… steamy.

Word Count: 1.2k

Pairing: Onew x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation.

————————————————————————

You sigh, frustrated and tired as yet again your experiment did not turn out the way that you had hypothesised. The deadline for your PHD thesis is fast approaching, and you feel as if you have spent more time in the lab with your professor than you have doing anything else for the last few months.

Your professor is standing beside you, and sensing your upset, he places a hand on your shoulder to reassure you that it is okay.

“Lovely girl, it’s okay. Are you okay?” He asks you in a soft tone.

Your bottom lip quivers at this, you are exhausted by repeating the same experiment with the tiniest tweaks and still not getting the results that you want.

“I can’t do this, Jinki-nim.” You sigh, “I’m not going to get this finished in time, I can’t think straight anymore.”

As you had hoped, and as he always does, whenever you get like this, Jinki takes a hand to your cheek, turning your head to face him.

Your relationship has been more than just teacher-student for a while now, and you remember the first day that he kissed you as if it were yesterday. Now, whenever you are upset, Jinki knows exactly how to fix that, and today will be no different, you are sure.

“Sit up here, sweetheart.” He urges you, moving to hold your waist and get you up onto the lab table.

He steps away from you for a moment, to move your equipment out of reach before returning to stand in between your spread legs. He leans in to kiss you sweetly, moaning a little as you so easily melt into his embrace.

“We can’t have you upset, can we, doll?” He coos, licking along your bottom lip to ask for permission to taste you.

“N-no, Jinki-nim. I can’t do my work if I am upset.” You respond, playing up your emotions a little, knowing that he loves to baby you.

Jinki kisses across your jawline up to your ear, as his hands roam from your waist to caress your thighs, fuck, he loves your thighs, touching them at every given opportunity.

“I’ll help you,” He starts, “That’s what I am here for, after all.”

You nod, before exerting a pathetic whine, “Yes, please help me.”

His hands travel further up your thighs, finding your centre to tease you through the fabric of your jeans. Your lab coat is undone, falling off your shoulders, and as Jinki kisses you with a little bit more force, it causes the coat to come off completely.

“I’m gonna make you feel better, okay, lovely girl?” He asks, finding the button of your jeans to undo with his thumb and forefinger.

You know how well those fingers work, as they brush against your skin when he slips his hand inside your now undone pants. They are warm, and you are wet, as he sighs in want, feeling how much he turns you on drives him crazy.

“Oh shit, you really need this, don’t you? You’re sucking me in, doll.” Jinki groans as he inserts a second finger.

“Ah— fuck yes, fuck yes, Jinki.” You whine, as he rubs circles on your clit, fingers working fast to bring you to peak.

Jinki kisses up your neck, grinding into you as he finger-fucks, and in your desperate state, feeling his huge, hard cock, you bring him closer, undoing his own pants to free his erection. You wrap both of your hands around it to begin stroking him, and the pleasure it gives him only causes him to work harder.

“God, you’re fucking massive, Jinki.” You praise, knowing that he loves to hear it.

“Mhmm,” He hums, “All the better to fill my favourite student though, right?”

You almost lose it right then, as you are reminded of how good it feels to take his cock. Though as you glance at the clock behind you, you see how late it is in the day, and Jinki chuckles, reading your mind.

“I’ll drive you home, after this. Maybe you can come in, and we can continue.” He offers, as he begins to curl his fingers with each thrust.

You continue stroking his cock, feeling yourself begin to come undone, you rest your head on his shoulder as you grind yourself into his hand. Your breathing is laboured as you lose control, moaning Jinki’s name as you cum on his fingers.

“Oh shit, sweetheart I’m gonna cum, too.” He moans, as he takes his fingers out of you and sticks them into his mouth to lick them clean.

You know that he does not like to make a mess of the laboratory, so you do what you need, what you have been craving to do, and drop down to the floor to take his cock into your mouth. You can barely get your mouth around it, but you manage, and with a mix of hand movements and your tongue swirling around the tip, Jinki releases, sending spurts of cum down your throat.

You swallow every last drop, as the sounds that Jinki makes are like music to your ears, you suck him dry before pulling off, and gazing up at him above you.

“So good to me, sweet girl.” Jinki says, reaching out for your hands to pull you back up to standing, “Are you feeling better?”

You sigh, leaning up on your toes to kiss him sweetly, “I am, thank you, Jinki-nim.”

Jinki smiles at you, as he zips his pants back up, and steps back out of the way so that you can fix yourself up, too.

“Are you ready to try your experiment again now?” He asks, as if nothing had even happened between you.

“Of course, Jinki-nim.” You smile in response.

Jinki buttons your lab coat for you, helping straighten it out before he assists in rearranging your experiment for you, beakers and burners at the ready, before he steps back to let you try again.

With his hand on your shoulder, and your now relaxed mind and body, you try again, tweaking one chemical by only the smallest amount, and your work finally pays off.

“I told you that you could get there! Congratulations, lovely girl.” He praises you.

You are over the moon, so proud of yourself for working as hard as you have. You scrawl down your results and the measurements that you used, so that you can try to do this again tomorrow, as it is so late in the day, and you could not bear to have to restart once more.

“So much thanks to you, Jinki-nim.” You reply, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

Jinki reaches across to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, and you blush, despite how common your closeness is.

“We should celebrate,” Jinki offers, “How does drinks at my place sound?”

You nod, wanting nothing more than to spend time with Jinki outside the lab, knowing that you will end up staying the night, like you always do, riding his cock until the sun comes up.

“I’d love to.” You reply.

Jinki holds out a hand for you to take, and the two of you leave the lab together.

[taetaespeaches]

“You think I’d leave you if you falter?”

jungkook x reader (or oc) genre: angst word count: 2.1K

a/n: Hi lovelies!!! Here is Jungkook and Holly’s first big fight that Jin and Poopsie later help Jungkook with in, “Did we just give relationship advice?” Our little babies just don’t even know how to handle a fight and when things escalate some pent up frustrations come out. Loosely based on ‘exile’ and ‘mirrorball’ off of Taylor Swift’s folklore. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

TYPING away on your laptop, you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you tried to calm the anxiousness that just kept building up. Your essay was due in just a few hours, and though you were getting close to wrapping it up, you had intended to finish it over three hours ago. To say you were panicking was putting it lightly.

Looking through an article you managed to find last minute during your scouring of the online library database, you felt the sudden urge to throw something as you struggled to find a quote that would support your thesis.

As you read through the paragraphs, the words blending together despite your efforts to focus, your front door opened. Your eyes darted to the intrusion, a sigh leaving your lips at the appearance of your boyfriend stepping inside with a loud groan as he dropped his bag to the floor.

“Practice was ridiculous today,” he complained immediately, you humming in response as you went back to trying to sort through the article.

In the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook stumble over one of your shoes you discarded in the entry way haphazardly, letting out an annoyed grunt. Your eyebrows raised just slightly at the sound.

Highlighting a section, you set the stapled papers down on the couch cushion beside you and went back to typing, working the quote into your writing.

“We’re switching up so much of the choreography, it’s like starting completely over,” Jungkook huffed, walking to the kitchen. “And then after hours of dance practice I had to go record a verse for one of the new songs,” he continued, you giving small hums of acknowledgement, not wanting to get distracted from your assignment.

“I don’t think my voice was in the best condition,” he complained further, you nodding slowly. Jungkook grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, turning to look at you, his eyebrows pulled together. Your eyes were glued to the computer screen as you paused to form your thought before typing it out on the keypad.

“Yeah, and then they had Jin record a rap verse to switch it up,” he told you, his tone more forward and direct than the earlier mumbled complaints.

You turned to Jungkook, confusion in your features as you met his wide eye, eyebrows raised, looking quite perturbed.

“Jin’s rapping?” You asked, Jungkook opening his mouth in a fake gasp.

“Oh, so you were listening,” he commented, his tone laced with irritation.

“What?” You asked, your annoyance with the man bubbling.

“You’re just giving me nothing, hi, I’m here,” he waved, furthering his point that he was there to see you and you weren’t acknowledging him.

You nodded once, noting his complaint. “Yeah, hi, I see you. I just have this essay to finish,” you told him, Jungkook nodding slowly in response. You stared at each other for a moment before you turned away, focusing back on your laptop.

You heard some clanking from inside the kitchen, recognizing the sound as dishes being moved around in the sink. A scoff left your boyfriend’s lips, which you pretended you didn’t hear, not wanting to give in to his attention seeking antics.

However, when he went to retrieve his bag from the doorway, tripping over your shoe once again, he let out a grunt of complaint that you couldn’t ignore, turning to shoot daggers at him.

“You can’t set your shoes aside with all the other ones?” He asked pointedly, your rage boiling from the single sentence.

“Really?” You asked him, staring at the man with your jaw clenched.

“Your shoes are everywhere, your dishes are dirty all over the kitchen-” he started jabbing at you, you cutting him off.

“I have like five unwashed dishes from breakfast and lunch,” you defended, “that’s hardly dirty dishes all over the kitchen.” He opened his mouth to speak again but you talked over-top of him. “And who the fuck are you to come into my apartment and start picking out how shitty I am at upkeep? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

He looked at you in surprise, but you continued on. “I’ve been working on this essay, along with keeping up with all my other courses, I don’t need you to come in here and start nagging me about my fucking shoes.”

“Whoah, calm down,” he told you holding his arms up in defense, the action enraging you more.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” you said crossly.

“Why are you so angry?” he asked, you rolling your eyes as you looked back to your essay. “You’ve been acting shitty all week,” he added, you looking up at him, your eyebrows pulled together in fury.

“Maybe I’m just moody, maybe I’m stressed, maybe I’m exhausted, maybe I’m tired of having to be chill and laid back all the fucking time,” you ranted, Jungkook looking at you in confusion.

Giving you a shrug, he stared at you with his eyes pulled together, a small crease forming at the top of the bridge of his nose. “What are you even talking about? No one said you have to be chill all the time.”

“Jungkook, I don’t have time for this conversation right now, I need to get this done and I’m already having enough trouble focusing,” you told him, trying to turn your attention back to your laptop.

“I thought you were working on the essay all day, how is it not done yet?” He asked, with a noticeable shift in his tone. He wasn’t asking in a patronizing way, but more just out of confusion. However, you were too worked up to note his tone, only listening to the poorly worded question.

“I’m a fuck up, Jungkook,” you snapped, your boyfriend’s eyes widening at the words.

“You’re not a fuck up, that’s not what I meant,” he insisted sincerely, though you were too pissed and emotional to hear him out. “I just meant, like, what happened?”

“No, I am a fuck up, I try to hide it from you, but this is me,” you gestured around the apartment. “Unwashed dishes, shoes thrown everywhere, unfinished essays that are due in three hours. If you check out my room, you’ll see I haven’t even put away my laundry from Sunday. This is me, dude, take it in.”

“Why- what do you mean you hide it from me? What do you hide?” He asked, chewing on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer.

“Imperfection,” you said simply, Jungkook’s eyebrows pulling further together as he stared at you. “It just feels like I have to be perfect sometimes,” you said with less anger, realizing that the words you were speaking would not be able to be taken back.

“For what?” He asked, shaking his head dumbfoundedly.

“For you,” you whined out. “You’re always saying how you love how laid back I am and how I never get too stressed or that I’m always on top of things, or that you love how independent and strong I am,” you ranted, Jungkook holding his arms out in question. “That’s just not always me,” you told him.

“I don’t ask you to be those things, do you not want me to compliment you? I don’t understand what the fuck you’re saying,” he complained, lost by the suddenness of your comments.

“It’s not just compliments though, it’s praising me for all these great things that aren’t always a reality for me,” you pointed out, Jungkook sighing. “And then you sometimes nag, like pointing out when I haven’t done the fucking dishes, I just feel like I can’t slip up.”

“Why am I just now hearing about all this?” He asked, you simply staring at him as he questioned you. “I mean this is insane, you’re throwing this shit at me and I didn’t even know there was an issue.” The irritation was etched into his features, and the anxiety from your essay was building in your stomach, though this time it was triggered by your unintentional fight with Jungkook.

“I didn’t say anything because I’m afraid of losing you,” you yelled out in frustration.

“Afraid of losing me?” He asked, the hurt evident in his tone. “You think I’d leave you if you falter?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, giving a faint shrug. “It’s not even just me faltering, it’s you always being ok. Jungkook, you’re never not the epitome of strength, you’re always excelling, you’re-”

“Golden,” he cut you off, rolling his eyes.  

You sighed. “Well?” Jungkook pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, shaking his head lightly. “What if you don’t like me when I’m not this image of perfection?”  

“God, I-” he sighed sharply. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, that’s not what I want from you, that’s never been what I want from you,” he insisted. “I didn’t even know you felt this way until two minutes ago.”

“I don’t always feel this way, but when I’m struggling, I feel like I’m not able to express that to you in the way I want to because I’m on this pedestal,” you said, Jungkook’s eyes widening. “But it’s not me up there, it’s me reflecting what you want to see and if I fall, I’m going to shatter this image, and I just, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“A pedestal?” He whispered. “Do you think I don’t know about pedestals? That I don’t understand the image of perfection people perceive you as? And how that compares to who you feel you are? Did you really think you couldn’t talk to me about this stuff?” He asked, tears brimming his eyes.  

“I don’t want you to think less of me, Jungkook,” you told him sadly, Jungkook looking away from you as he blinked back his tears.

“You actually think I would think less of you if you let me know when you’re having a hard time?” He asked, his eyes still averted. When you didn’t answer, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before looking back to you. “Maybe I have unintentionally put you on a pedestal, but you have me on one too.” The comment felt like it stabbed your heart. As you processed the words, and what they meant in regards to how you had been making him feel, Jungkook shifted on his feet, watching you closely. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, his eyes wide, full of worry.

“What do you want to do?” You questioned back.

“I don’t want to fight,” he told you, a look of frustration overtaking his features. Neither did you.

“We’re already fighting,” you reminded him with an edge of regret in your tone. The last thing you wanted was the situation you were in now, but you were in it.  

“Well, let’s just stop,” he said, as if it was easy to take back all the words spoken and forget about them.

“We can’t just do that,” you told him, tears bubbling up in your orbs. His eyes were big and scared as they stared at you, Jungkook chewing on the inside of his lower lip once again. “This seems sudden but we both obviously had some shit we needed to let out.”

“It’s out now though,” he pointed out, you shrugging.

“Yeah so now we’re both frustrated and hurt,” you told him, your voice nearly breaking. “I don’t know, maybe we just need to give it some time and think things over.

“What does that mean?” He asked, panic seeping into his voice.

“It means I’m tired, Jungkook, and I have an essay I have to finish, and I don’t-” you paused, collecting your emotions. “I can’t keep doing this right now.”

“Are you asking me to leave?” He asked, and his expression of heartbreak shattered you.

“I’m asking if we can talk later,” you told him, Jungkook slowly nodding.

“Right,” he began backing away. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, turning around to go toward the door. “Good luck with the essay,” he whispered before opening the door and exiting quickly.

The moment he walked out you were in tears, frustrated and mad at yourself and for letting things get so twisted up. Looking at the time at the top right corner of your laptop screen, you noted that you had two hours and forty-five minutes left to get your essay turned in.

Looking at the open document, the cursor blinking mid-sentence, you suddenly could not care less about the essay. Did you just fuck everything up?

[rikumorimachisgirl]

Title: Eyes on you

Pairing: Shaw x You

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2,901

A/N: You (Y/N) are not the MC in MLQC. This is a plunny that's been bugging me for quite a while, I had to write it. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own MLQC or its characters, but I do own the concept of this fic.

There were a few mysteries in this world that the esteemed Archeology Graduate Professors at Loveland University can't explain - for instance, the formation of the Stonehenge, the exact location of the lost city of Atlantis, the origin of the Nazca lines… and your presence at the Metro Art Gala dressed to the nines, positively gleaming as you strode arm in arm with your classmate and Thesis partner Shaw, who seemed like the perfect gentleman that evening. Thanks to your work at the Loveland Museum, you scored two invites to the gala featuring the recently discovered works of a well-known artist - an event any Archeology fanatic wouldn't let pass. The two of you walked along with LFG's Exhibition Hall, pausing occasionally to admire one of the recently discovered sculptures by the Renaissance artist D'Romani. As you both looked at the intricacies of the artwork in front of you, your charming companion would lean in slightly and whisper something in your ear, causing you to roll your eyes or stifle a giggle. 

To the guests in the prestigious gala, the two of you looked like two young people at the cusp of falling in love, but the members of the Faculty of the Graduate School of Archeology saw it differently - this was a real-life mystery if they'd seen one. 

As your eyes swiftly swept through the entire room, you could see that your professors only had one question in mind - how'd this happen? How did two people as different as day and night, who argued with each other throughout Graduate studies, end up amiably enjoying each other's company tonight? 

You drew a sharp breath and sighed. The answer was simple: Your Thesis defense was right around the corner. You needed him to cooperate, you were willing to go to great lengths to make it happen. And your Thesis partner (unfortunately) was ready to take full advantage of the situation. 

***

"Tell me why we're doing this again, " you said through the door that separated you and your date, as you were putting on the dress you bought (or invested on, as he casually stated) for tonight's gala, which he insisted on attending with you. It was six in the evening on a Friday, and you had just arrived home after cramming your workload at the Loveland Museum and foregoing your meal breaks just so you could leave work at exactly five-thirty. 

"I already told you a couple of times - you want me to cooperate with you so you can pass our Thesis, and I need a reason to be around her," the purple-haired man waiting at the other side of your bedroom door called out nonchalantly. "You can drop your fantasy about me asking you out because I'm attracted to you."

You hissed silently at his snarky remark and counted to ten. You haven't even left your apartment yet you already wanted this night to be over. "How do you even know she's gonna be there?"

She - the Miracle Finder Producer, the object of your Thesis Partner's fantasies, and as fate would have it, his brother's girlfriend. 

"They're doing a show featuring our Thesis adviser. Didn't he tell us about it during our last consultation?" He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I wasn't listening," you shot back, as you took off your ponytail and started styling your hair with your curling iron. You chose a one-shoulder fitted black dress that stops right above your knees, so you thought of wearing your hair down for a change. 

"Ah, yes. You were too busy looking at your notes, trying to prove me wrong as always."

You closed your eyes, as you continued to make big beach waves and prayed to the gods you wouldn't commit murder tonight. 

"How much longer are you gonna take?"

"Excited much?" You asked, smirking while you now removed your glasses and put on your contacts. "You sound like a teenager excited to see his crush in a school fair!"

"Don't compare me to you!" 

"I don't have designs on anyone in the party," you called back. "Unless your brother's attending the event, that is. From what you've been telling me, he seems like a great guy."

Silence. You arched an eyebrow as you strained your ear to listen for any sign of life outside your bedroom door. What must your grunge-rock skater boy-turned-date-for-the-evening be thinking? 

"Do you want to pass our Thesis or not?"

You struck a victory pose at his remark. Finally, one point - you, Shaw - about twenty. 

"Are you done yet? This suit is really uncomfortable. Damn, why do people even wear these?"

"Because they're decent?" You shot back. "You know, you can always go home if you're not comfortable in your attire because when we get there, you need to act decent, too. Can't have your usual swagger in a formal affair."

"Just hurry it up already!"

You rolled your eyes as you applied your nude-colored lipstick to finish off your look before putting on your black stilettos, and stuffing your phone, wallet, and your makeup in your purse. 

"All done," you replied, as you finally emerged from your room. 

***

A part of you wished that the dynamics between you and Shaw were different. While he was a pain in the neck, and too carefree for his own good, you also thought he made for a good intellectual sparring partner, quite attractive, and it was hard to deny that he's got your heart beating double-time whenever he got too close for comfort like he was at that very moment. 

"My, you two kids seem to be having fun tonight."

You gasped, at the sound of the voice behind you, and you felt your date nudge you ever-so-subtly while straightening.

"Hey, Professor Adler," he said in his usual unruffled tone, his lips stretched into a smirk as he held his hand out to your Anthropology professor and Thesis adviser, who watched you both amusedly. His gesture made your eyes shot wide open, you thought they'd fall right off. Shaw shaking someone's hand? That's one for the books. 

"Shaw. Fancy seeing you here," the stout middle-aged man greeted while shaking your date's hand. "This isn't your usual scene though."

"Yeah, I know, but I can't exactly turn a pretty lady down, can I?" 

"I can see that," your professor said as he looked at you appraisingly. "Well, well, you clean up well, Miss (y/n)."

You fought the urge to squirm at the older man's words when you heard your date cluck his cheeks with his tongue and suddenly felt his arm around your shoulders, pressing you protectively close to his side. 

***

"All done!" You happily announced as you stepped into the living room of your small apartment where your date was impatiently waiting for you. 

You could've sworn he was stunned for a second or two before he shook his head and tried to regain his usual impassive expression. Finally, he stood and walked closer to assess you better. 

"You're not wearing your glasses. I thought you said you're practically blind without them?" 

You cocked your head to one side. Out of all the things he could've complimented or called out, that's the first thing he noticed? 

"Wouldn't it look awkward if I wore glasses to a formal event?"

"Your hair is all curly," he continued as if you didn't say anything. "And your shoes are so tall, won't you trip? Also, surely you have a jacket to go with that dress, right?" 

You stared at him in disbelief. Why did this carefree, bass-playing skater boy turn into your dad all of a sudden? 

"Uh…"

"Well, at least you're not wearing red lipstick. You don't have to try too hard to look sexy. Geez! I've got plans of my own this evening, so don't expect me to be your bodyguard," he continued to mumble as he circled around you. Before long, you felt something warm and heavy on your shoulder. His coat?

"It's just until we get to the venue," he shrugged as he led you to the car he borrowed for tonight. "I don't want people seeing you freeze to death."

You sighed, your shoulders slumped as you followed your date to the car. You already expected he wouldn't throw you a compliment for looking like a proper human tonight, and you cursed yourself for feeling gutted over it anyway. 

 ***

"So, which one of these sculptures did you like best, Professor?" You sighed in relief as Shaw changed the subject, his arm still wrapped around you, making you blush furiously. 

"Oh, I have to say I liked Eros and Psyche best. In case you haven't seen it yet, it's located a little further down the hall near the bar area," the older man was starting to explain when someone tapped his shoulder from behind. 

"Excuse me, Professor Adler," a gentle voice called out, making both the professor and Shaw jump. From behind the old man, a pretty petite with brown hair and big brown eyes, and the biggest smile on her face stepped up. "My name is MC from Miracle Finder."

Almost immediately, Shaw withdrew his arm around you, almost causing you to stagger backward. He straightened up and feigned disinterest. 

"Hey. It's a little rude how you stepped in while I was talking to the Professor," he said, his tone teasing. 

"Oh, I didn't notice you here. Do you mind if I talk to your Professor? We've invited him for an interview about the exhibit," the girl said sweetly. 

Based on how unconsciously coy she acted around Shaw, and the way he kept egging her, there was no doubt that this was the girl he was crushing on. You felt like the odd person out all of a sudden and needed to step away. 

You backed away slowly, careful not to rouse their attention because it would probably suck if you knew how Shaw would introduce you to his little crush. As soon as you were in a safe distance, you turned and walked aimlessly down the hall, pausing briefly at paintings or sculptures that caught your fancy, looking at its intricacies as you did so earlier. But somehow, it wasn't as fun as it was before, so you moved on quickly, to give way to the other guests who also wanted to view the artwork.

Finally, you came upon the bar and decided to rest your tired feet at the far corner, hidden from the rest of the world. Sighing, you slipped your feet off your stilettos and quietly watched as the guests around you - mostly couples - happily chatting away as they enjoyed the beauty of the art around them and the wonderful music that filled the air. You knew somewhere in the crowd, your date was fawning over his lady love, probably getting in the way of her filming your professor. 

Tch. 

You knew he liked her - he always told you he did. And why wouldn't he? MC was pretty, seemingly sweet, and dainty - the kind of girl any guy would like to protect. And you. You were the opposite. You lived for your work, were 'one of the boys', and didn't need anyone to protect you - that's just how you were - and now you started to realize that maybe guys don't exactly like that. At least not Shaw. 

Wait, what were you thinking? You scolded yourself as you shook your head. Why were you even thinking of what he liked when you don't even like him to start with. Or did you? 

"Ugh. What the hell is wrong with me?" You groaned when a cold bottle of beer and a frozen glass was placed in front of you. 

"I was gonna ask you that myself." 

You straightened up in your seat and shot a look at the guy seated beside you. Dressed in a nice grey suit, he smiled as he raised his beer bottle in front of you. 

"You look like you needed a drink. I hope the beer is okay. They don't have fruit beer or soda," he said calmly, his amber-colored eyes never leaving yours. 

"Y-yeah. Beer is perfect," you replied while pouring the amber liquid into the glass. "Thanks," you muttered before raising the glass to your lips to gulp down some liquid courage. 

"I saw you with Shaw earlier -"

The name on his lips drove you to a coughing fit, as you choked on your drink. "Sorry, " you mumbled in between coughs. 

"No, I'm sorry," the brown-haired guy said, as he cautiously and politely patted your back. "I didn't mean to bring that up. I was just curious."

"It's fine," you replied when you finally regained your composure. "Yes, we're just classmates in Grad school who decided to check this exhibit out for the heck of it."

"Classmates, huh?"

"Yeah, that's what we are," you said, taking a sip off your glass. "Grad school classmates."

"Are you telling me or telling yourself?"

You looked up and saw him smiling. There was something about Dreamy McHandsome who was seated beside you that felt so familiar yet different at the same time, but you couldn't point a finger at what it was exactly. 

"We're classmates, and we're working on our thesis together. But we're not friends - far from it even. We hate each other's guts."

"Can't blame you for doing so," he shrugged as he drank his beer. 

"Yeah. He dragged me here so he can get with someone he's been crushing on for so long," you rambled on, frowning. 

"Oh? And who might that be?"

"The Miracle Finder Producer. You know, the pretty girl in a blue top and white skirt. He's been going on and on about her for weeks…"

"You mean my girlfriend?" 

His girlfriend. You choked on your drink once again. "Y-y-your girlfriend? You mean to say…" You gasped. Has the beer made you stupid? You've barely drunk half of it, you thought as you fought to regain your dignity. This was Shaw's brother you were talking to - and boy, we're they blessed with good genes…

… And the same social awkwardness, you noticed, judging by how he kept his hand at your back, but not exactly touching it, as if trying to assess if he had to pat you or not. 

When you finally calmed down, he cleared his throat and gave you a small smile. "Don't worry. She talks to me about their conversations. I know what that guy is playing at, and I most definitely know he's not after my girl," he said, his voice broke no room for doubt. "My name is Gavin..."

"Yeah, I know…"

"You - what?"

"Oh," you said, tapping on your glass nervously. "Shaw kinda mentioned it in passing before."

"I see."

"So, what were you saying earlier about Shaw?"

"Oh. From what my girlfriend tells me, he's got his sights set on…"

"Ahem," you heard someone say loud enough for you and Gavin to turn your heads around. And there, standing behind you, was an angry-looking Shaw. You sat up, your gaze shifting between the two brothers as the air started to thicken with tension. "I talk to someone for a minute and the next thing I knew, my date walks out on me and right into the one person I'd hate for her to meet."

"Well, if you were just honest with her as with a lot of other things in your life, maybe she wouldn't have left your side earlier," Gavin retorted flippantly. "Is she finally done with filming?"

Shaw simply grunted in reply as he watched his older brother finish his bottle of beer and stand. "Well, Miss, there's a lot I've heard about you. Seems somebody couldn't stop talking about you, but I'll leave it at that." 

With a wink and a mischievous smile upon his face, the brown-haired guy sauntered off to look for his better half, as you and Shaw watched in awkward silence. 

He cleared his throat and glanced at you. "Hey."

"Hey," you replied, shakily. 

"So, about what that jerk said -"

"Yes?" You asked, feeling your heart hammer against your chest by the second.

"Whatever he said is not true," he said dismissively, as he took his coat off and draped it over your shoulders. "I told you before, I don't find you the least bit attractive."

You felt tears starting to sting your eyes, as he continued with his harsh commentary. "You're tough, highly opinionated, and you always want to come out on top. I don't find those attractive at all," he said. "I prefer a damsel in distress. I want someone clingy… someone, needy."

"I know that -"

"Oh do you?" He teased, his amber eyes twinkling. "You seem to know a lot about me."

"We've been working together for months now," you said. "Of course, I'd know more about you."

"I see," he said, as he took a step closer to you and touched your cheek, rubbing the stray tear that had managed to slip down the side of your face. "So, you must know I'm also a good liar. After all, I've kept all these feelings to myself for quite some time."

He snickered when he saw your frown deepen and he bent down just as he had done so earlier, to whisper. "I made you think I liked someone else when in fact," his low voice made you shiver. "I've always eyes for you."

The End.

[imaginedhaven]

Undercover and Out of Sight

a smutty Rowaelin oneshot

Link to Hot Professors Collection Masterlist

Summary: Aelin is grading midterm papers. Rowan offers his own unique brand of assistance.

Rating: E for Explicit- not intended for readers under 18!

Contents/Warnings: College Professors AU, Enemies With Benefits, Semi-Public Sex

This take place in the same universe as “Flames On My Skin”, but it stands completely alone. Reading that is not required for understanding this piece, but it’s linked in the masterlist above if you want more enemies with benefits action!

~*~*~

Aelin let her head fall into her hands, sighing as she rubbed at her forehead. Midterms had arrived at Doranelle University, and with midterms came all of the papers from her advanced class to grade.

As the newest professor in the psychology department, she bore the brunt of teaching many of the more introductory classes. That was fine; not only did she like having the ability to bring new faces into the field to which she’d devoted her life’s work, but she had graduate assistants able to assist with grading the tests, since the answers were less open to interpretation.

Her more advanced course on personality theory, though, required a more in-depth and nuanced approach and therefore she had assigned a paper instead of a test. She’d thought it was a great idea, and it was certainly more fair to the students, as they would be able to develop the skills they would actually need in the field rather than responding to a multiple-choice examination. However, that meant she was now forced to read more than twenty papers comparing and contrasting the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator and the Five Factor Model of personality traits.

Aelin groaned. The paper had been a mistake. At least it was the midterm; there was a less stringent deadline on her ability to read than there would have been if she’d assigned this paper as the final project.

“As much as I enjoy hearing that sound from you,” a smooth voice said from the doorway, “I think I prefer it being because of me.”

Fuck. She’d forgotten to lock the door, and Whitethorn must have seen an opportunity. “What are you even doing here? Your last class was four hours ago.”

Not that she had memorized his schedule. And even if she had, it wasn’t because it meant she would know when he was busy and when he could be interrupted. No, it was definitely so that she knew when she could work without interruption.

Whitethorn smirked from where he was leaning against her door. “Same thing as you, I’d imagine. Let me guess, you didn’t give yourself enough time to actually grade papers, because you thought it would be easier than it is.”

Arrogant bastard. “I have plenty of time, and how I grade my courses has nothing to do with you.” She could feel the tightness in her voice, and she deliberately took a deep breath. Calm and collected. If she didn’t rise to his baiting, he would leave, and she could work in peace.

“Testy,” he mused. “Sounds like you could use a break.”

“From you? Always.”

He locked the door and then shoved himself away from it, closing the distance between them in three quick strides and towering over her. “You know, it’s okay to admit you like what we do.”

Aelin scoffed, turning her attention back to the paper she was reading. “I don’t have to admit anything to you.”

“That’s true enough. And yet you never tell me to leave, either.” A quick glance his way told her he was rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows and loosening his tie. Fuck. She shouldn’t have looked. There was no way his gaze would miss the way her thighs pressed together, or how she couldn’t quite help biting her lip. “Slide your chair back,” he said once he’d finished with his shirt.

Aelin froze, stunned. “What?”

“You heard me. Slide your chair back.”

She complied wordlessly, wondering exactly where he was going with this. As soon as she had, he slipped into the space she had created, kneeling on the floor. His large frame just barely fit beneath the wood of her desk, and if she hadn’t been so confused, it would’ve been almost comical. “What are you doing?”

Rather than reply verbally, he tugged her chair back toward himself and then pulled her hips to the edge of the chair. Aelin gasped as the movement caused her already-short skirt to ride up, exposing her simple black underwear to his gaze.

He remained still for a moment, and Aelin felt herself squirm as he quietly watched her. “Are you just going to stare, or are you going to actually do something?” she asked, feeling her irritation creep into her voice.

He slid his hands up her thighs, and she could just tell he was smirking as her muscles tensed beneath his touch. “Keep grading.”

Aelin frowned. “What?”

“Keep grading your papers.”

It was probably one of the strangest things he’d had her do, but Aelin shrugged and returned her attention to the paper as his hands continued to caress her thighs.

While the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator is generally held to be less reliable as a measure than tests measuring the Big Five personality traits of the Five Factor Model, its popularity allows it to be more accessible as a concept and as a measure and has popularized several tenets of personality theory.

Aelin rolled her eyes. She’d known there would be a certain amount of unnecessary wording in order to get the papers to the minimum requirement, but she could’ve laid out this student’s thesis in half the words.

As she went to keep reading, she felt deft fingers tucking her underwear to the side of her outer lips. Fuck, was he…?

“Oh, gods.” He was, if the way he let out a slow exhale a mere inch from her clit was any indication.

His voice was stern when he spoke again. “Keep reading.”

With her attention as fragmented as it was, Aelin realized she’d already forgotten the introduction of the paper and returned to the beginning.

While the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator is generally held to be less reliable as a measure than tests measuring the Big Five personality traits of the Five Factor Model, its popularity—

“Fuck!” Her hands clutched at the edge of the desk as his tongue traced along her core. He then proceeded to nuzzle the slick skin, nose brushing the skin just over her clit, and she struggled to regain her composure.

“Be quiet, now,” he teased. “Wouldn’t want someone to think you swear at your students’ papers, would we?”

“And whose fault would that be?” The words came out as a hiss, and she moved to push herself away so she could glare at him.

His hands grabbed her hips to keep her in place. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Fine. Whatever. He could say what he wanted. But she had to at least try to read this godsdamn paper; he’d be beyond insufferable if he truly broke her concentration. Carefully, she took a deep breath and began again.

While the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator is generally held to be less reliable as a measure than tests measuring the Big Five—

His lips found her clit and began to suck, and she gave up with a whimper. Damn him, but he was far too good at this. His little game hadn’t been fair from the beginning, and he’d known it.

He nibbled at her flesh, letting just the faintest edge of his teeth brush her clit, and the edge of pain was almost too much. She snaked a hand down beneath the desk and grabbed a fistful of his hair, holding his face against her as she rolled her hips.

To his credit, he seemed to realize that she was far too close to the edge for him to stop just to be ornery. Instead he allowed her to ride his face, licking and sucking whatever flesh she made available to him. Between his efforts and the thrill of having him under her desk, it didn’t take long at all for her to reach her peak with a soft gasp.

She probably would’ve been more embarrassed by how quickly she’d gotten there if it hadn’t felt so damned good.

Aelin was still in a daze from the sensation of it all as Whitethorn carefully stood, urging her to stand and then bend over her desk. Several papers hit the floor with the sound of rustling paper, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She felt him slide her underwear down her legs and lift one of her feet to free her from the fabric, and with a sigh she spread her legs, giving him a view she knew he couldn’t get enough of. Rather than stop to appreciate it, though, he pressed her legs back together with hands on her thighs, and she twisted until she could look over her shoulder at him in confusion.

He simply smirked in response and rubbed the head of his cock against her—when had he pulled it free from his pants?

She shivered and bit her lip. “What’re you—?”

Her question trailed off into a moan as his cock pressed into her. Fuck, but it was somehow even better like this; the stretch of it inside of her always felt delightful, but with her legs pressed together like this the added friction had her grasping at the desk for something, anything to hold onto to keep her grounded.

“Gods.” The word was hoarse, his voice deeper than normal, and when she dared to glance back at him his eyes were fixed on where they were joined. She grinned and wiggled her hips, laughing huskily when the motion caused him to hiss.

In retaliation, his first thrust was just this side of too hard, and just like that they were moving together, any thoughts Aelin could’ve formed lost to the sensation of his cock moving inside her and his hips slapping against hers. Her cheeks were burning as her eyes fluttered shut, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel embarrassed by the deep blush she knew must’ve been showing. Not when it felt this good to let go.

He tugged her hips back just a little harder against his own, giving him just enough room to shove a hand between her and the desk. Deft fingers found and circled her clit, and just like that she was on the edge all over again.

“Do it. Come for me.” His words, rough and spoken through gritted teeth, pushed her over, and she clapped a hand over her mouth in an effort to muffle her cry as much as possible. A few moments later his hips ground against hers as he found his own release, and together they collapsed onto her desk, Aelin relishing the warmth of him at her back for just a moment. She could take a moment to enjoy this before composing herself and kicking him out of her office.

She regretted that decision almost immediately when she felt him brush her hair out of her face and saw the grin on his face. “You’re welcome.”

Aelin growled. “You’re not allowed to be this insufferable while you’re still inside me.”

“No?”

She flexed her muscles around him and watched him grimace at the squeeze around flesh that must have been as oversensitive as she was. “No.”

He lightly slapped her hip before pulling away, and a tiny part of her immediately mourned the loss of him while the rest of her glared at him. He only smirked in reply, doing the bare minimum to make himself presentable before sauntering over to the door again. “Enjoy your grading, Professor Galathynius.”

Gods, but he could make even the title she’d fought so hard for sound like an insult. She growled in response, but he merely grinned and left her office.

Aelin took a deep breath and stood up on shaky legs, slipping her underwear back on and up her legs. Her hair was absolutely a lost cause, so she simply tied it back and made sure her blouse was still on straight before smoothing her skirt back down.

Then she looked at the papers and growled out a curse. Most of them were fine, but a few were hopelessly crumpled from where he’d fucked her into the desk.

She carefully tucked the ones that were fine into her bag before gathering the ones that were worse off and stalking toward his office. He’d gotten her into this mess, and she would make him help get her back out of it if it was the last thing she did.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp- your tag isn’t working! Sorry! @sleeping-and-books

[stayevildarling]

Sally McKenna x Wilhemina Venable x Reader - A little help Pt 5

word count: 3.1k

warnings: smoking, mention of drugs, hints of smut, cursing, panic attacks, anxiety

A/N: This is an eight-part story, hope you enjoy

Rushing through the busy halls of university, your mind is racing, the thoughts so loud it sounds like bees in your head and the thoughts just won't stop buzzing, causing your vision to blur slightly, ears ringing and trembling hands, the feeling of panic and losing control of the situation any moment. You rush into the nearest bathroom, bursting the nearest door open and quickly closing it, dropping your bag and books onto the floor and sliding down the wall, trying to calm down.

Shakily you try and reach for your phone to distract yourself, maybe playing a video or maybe even messaging them but you feel woozy with every movement of your body and so you close your eyes and abandon the thought of getting your phone out of your bag. ''Breathe idiot'' you remind yourself and you try a technique that has occasionally worked in the past before, whenever you felt a panic attack coming.

''Breathe in 4-3- nope nope not working too much too loud'' you try but fail miserably at keeping your breathing under control. ''Shit'' you mutter, noticing that the feeling isn't passing and the panic only growing but how the hell did you end up hyperventilating, sitting on the bathroom floor of your university?

After Sally's relapse a few weeks back, you taking her to Mina's work and going cold-turkey, things have changed and somehow took a more unexpected turn than you expected to. Sally struggled and she struggled badly at first, she couldn't cope, constantly having you or Wilhemina around, not able to get out of the house, only on walks where you two would accompany her. There were times when she felt hatred towards you two, but not really you two more what you are doing to her or rather keeping Sally from doing to herself. There were a lot of sleepless nights, you and Wilhemina taking turns, watching her and guiding her through this journey of detoxing her body from the drugs. It was constant ups and downs, it was really hard at first with all the withdrawal symptoms and the times she would just be throwing up everything she would eat or drink and you and Wilhemina often debating whether you need to get doctors involved.

There were the good days when caffeine and nicotine helped Sally's urges and you three actually had really good days together, snuggled up on the sofa, watching everyone's favorite movies and enjoying the quiet and each other's company. Then things started going downhill, with Wilhemina having to go into work again and you looking after Sally while she was still at home , blogging from home and posting a lot to distract herself from the withdrawal symptoms.

Everything went okay at first, Mina leaving early in the morning like she usually would, with a lunch bag you packed for her the night before, just like you usually would. You woke up, snuggling closer to Sally and enjoying some quality time with her, before she sat on the sofa, working on her blog and you decided to carry on finishing your thesis because deadlines were coming up. You two sat on the sofa together in comfortable silence, just working and it was almost calming but just almost.

You were unaware that day, that Sally was fighting the most recent and hardest battle with her addiction and that her body was craving something more than just caffeine to fight this empty feeling. Maybe it was the fact that Wilhemina had to go to work and Sally knowing you are different than Wilhemina, not as strong, not as strict.

At first you thought everything was okay and when she got up, you absent-mindedly asked what she was doing, only for her to tell you she is going to the toilet. You didn't think too much of it until you heard things smashing, being thrown across the bathroom and so you instantly rushed inside the bathroom, only to find a very overwhelmed Sally, searching through every draw and cabinet to find something, anything even Mina's painkillers, just anything so she could feel release and at peace but you and Mina were smarter than that beforehand and hid any potential dangers.

''Sally'' you pleaded, understanding immediately what was going on. ''I don't fucking care Y/N I need something'' she screamed in your face while tears streamed down her cheeks. ''Where are your cigarettes?'' you asked feeling helpless, although you are very aware that cigarettes and the stuff Sally is used to, are very different. ''I ran out'' she admitted and you took a step closer to her, putting your hands on her shoulders, your eyes begging her to calm down.

''We can go and buy some right now, let's get dressed okay?'' you asked and it took two more meltdowns before she agreed to leave the house with you.

From that day on, things took a more positive turn however and you and Wilhemina got Sally to agree to go to group counseling therapy, where she would sit with a group of people, twice a week to talk about her feelings and experiences.

At first she really didn't want to go and begged you to go with her and of course you did. Sally settled in surprisingly well and she actually started looking forward to those meetings, you and Wilhemina insisted on driving her and somebody would always take her there and pick her up again after an hour. Whenever you drove her for the first few weeks, you would actually wait in the parking lot, just making sure she doesn't just pretend to go inside and leave again as soon as you or Wilhemina left.

But she didn't and you didn't learn the reason for this until a while later, because the aspect of socialising at these sessions really helped Sally. Having a group of strangers there, sharing similar stories and her finally understanding her behavior and learning that she isn't responsible for this and that it's a cycle that is very hard to escape, especially when attempting to fight it alone. She would regularly walk back to the car with the happiest smile, reaching another milestone, one week clean, two weeks clean and soon it will be one month.

Sally would talk about what she learned that day, what the others shared, she talked about someone there relapsing and how it made her feel. To motivate her further you bought this calendar and hung it the kitchen where she can mark her appointments but also her milestones.

Just when Sally, one of the two most important people of your life started doing better, you still aware that she isn't magically cured and still on this hard path of battling and fighting her demons, your other lover Wilhemina at last cracked under the pressure of the past few weeks.

With Wilhemina it's different than Sally, you would never find her broken and sad on the sofa after crying herself to sleep. You would never have her admit something is wrong, you would never hear a single complaint coming from her and that's the dangerous thing with the redhead. She is a master at hiding and shielding her emotions, of course, you got her to open up gradually and break those walls down, to get her to open up, get her to be honest, and communicate feelings or things on her mind, just like she would expect of you.

It all started with her physical therapy appointments, for years she has attended those for her back, she would do exercises there or do them at home. You being the mastermind at planning every aspect of your and their lives, you also wrote her appointments in the calendar and usually Wilhemina and Sally would tick of their appointments when finished but inspecting the calendar a bit closer one afternoon, you noticed that she hasn't ticked one off in a very long time.

''Maybe she forgot but went there'' you tried convincing yourself, remembering the many times she has told you she went to an appointment or did the exercises at home when you and Sally would be at work. It wasn't until two days later when you found out the truth, after Wilhemina calling you from work

''Little one, are you free?'' she asked and even though you were sitting in the university library, working of course you said you are because you know whenever Wilhemina calls and needs a favor it's urgent. ''Yes what is it Mina?'' you asked

''Can you call the doctors I need my pain medication again, I'm heading into a meeting now but I can pick up the prescription tomorrow morning'' she let you know and of course you did as she asked.

However, when ringing the doctors office, that you have sometimes rang or been to before when Mina needed something, they informed you that Wilhemina shouldn't be receiving any pain medication for another week, because she should still have some left and on top of that they informed you that she hadn't attended her physical therapy appointments in a while.

When the call ended you felt this silence, despite sitting outside of your university, hearing students talk, cars drive by and even some bird chirping, it was silent. Because that moment was a wakeup call, a slap from reality right in the face, reminding you that Sally isn't the only one fighting her battles even if she fights them more openly.

''It can't be a coincidence'' you tried reminding yourself and as you drove home that day your anxiety was so high, fearing Wilhemina's reaction and confronting her because you knew deep down already, no matter how you would possibly say it, she will be mad.

''For fucks sake Y/N I have attended those shitty appointment and I don't have medication left, those doctors are useless'' she cursed and neither you nor Sally have seen her like that in a while. You debated whether to fight her on this, get her to lash out but in the end admit the truth, let you and Sally in so you could be there for her and comfort her, just that never happened.

''It doesn't matter I will call them myself in the morning'' she told you. This has now been about a week ago and things became a little strange at home, Wilhemina and you wouldn't talk as much, of course, you talked, greeting each other and small talk but there was this huge wall standing between you two, none of you knowing whether to start and break it down.

Your mind being occupied by something entirely different, made it difficult to focus on Wilhemina or Sally in this past week, of course you asked them how they are, you listened, you made them baths, you did anything but university pulled you right into this ocean again, waves of responsibilities and deadlines crashing right at you.

Maybe you pushing away your own problems, stress and anxiety for over a month now, solely focussing on your two girlfriends and their wellbeing, reality and the lack of self care is finally hitting you, causing you to almost collapse on the bathroom floor of your university.

The sad part is that you did it, you finished your thesis about three days ago and today is finally the day where you are allowed to hand it in and finally have the stress come to an end, with no more obligatory classes now and you just having a break until you recieve your grades.

For the past five days or so, you haven't been able to sleep, eat or drink a lot. Of course you would occasionally force yourself to have a bite or some water or fall asleep, sitting in Mina's office in the middle of the night, reading over your thesis and work again and again. Usually before these things Mina would read over it, making sure you didn't get anything mixed up or any spelling mistakes, from all the hours of writing, researching. But within this past week, things have been so strange that you didn't want to ask her.

Still hyperventilating you are pulled out of the buzzing and loud thoughts when you hear your phone ringing. Closing your eyes, you hold your hand out and try reaching for your backpack and you manage to find a strap and pull it onto your body. Momentarily you wrap your arms around your bag as if it was a shield, stopping this crushing feeling in your chest, the pain and the thoughts, as if bullets of thoughts are being shot against you and your backpack shielding you.

But the vibration of your phone is tugging you out of this state yet again, even just for a moment. Somehow you manage to open the zip of your bag and you reach for your phone, the vibration making it easy to find with your eyes still closed, the dizzy feeling still too strong. Finally you manage to open your eyes and see Sally's photo through a blurry vision and you press the green button on your screen and the speaker button next, thinking it will be too much to actually lead the phone to your ear.

''Hi pumpkin'' her angelic voice rings through the speakers and somehow, even in this dark and scary moment you manage to smile. ''He- hey'' you manage to say and you can hear ruffling in the background

''I'm just going to one of my meetings and I was wondering how my pumpkin is doing'' she says and the crushing feeling in your chest, replaces with a fluttering feeling, you feel whenever being referred to as either their little one or pumpkin.

''By the way me and Mina were wondering when is your thesis due?'' she asks while lighting a cigarette in the car. ''I- today'' you say, feeling your breathing very slowly calming down and going to a more normal state.

''Today?'' she asks a bit shocked and she pauses for a moment, confused why you didn't mention that before, knowing how important that is to you. ''Yeah'' you mumble ''How come you didn't tell us, I could have taken you there today pumpkin or Mina could have read it again'' she asks.

Opening your eyes now, you see the time and realize you have to hand in your thesis now so you quickly try and prop yourself up, Sally's voice still right there, making you feel save and relaxed. ''I'm sorry I gotta go I have to hand it in now'' you explain and Sally nods before saying ''Good luck, love you pumpkin''.

After standing up and grabbing your bag slowly, you hold onto the bathroom walls, the last bit of stability that you have right now to hold on to, to shield you and keep you from losing control. After taking one more steady and deep breath, you unlock the door and walk towards the sink, putting some cold water on your wrists and also your face.

You open your backpack and grab a lemon gum because the sour taste usually distracts you from whatever is bothering you and the buzzing thoughts. Finally leaving the bathroom, you walk past the classrooms and hallways filled with students, for what kind of feels like one of the last times.

Your time at university flashes before your eyes in this moment, you see the main entrance and you remember the many times Sally or Mina would take you here on a monday morning after spending a beautiful weekend with them and them not having to go into work until the day later.

The places you stood, like your locker for instance, where Sally would sometimes call you and ask for help or Mina calling you and asking about your day and classes. You remember wandering these halls a few years back, before meeting Sally and Wilhemina and feeling confused as to how on earth you could ever get rid of this lonely feeling or the little skip of your heart, whenever you saw a couple kiss or hold hands. Then just about a year after, you found them and you then knew what it feels like to be held, to be kissed or to intertwine your hands with theirs.

''Oh hi there'' you hear Miss Anderson's voice and suddenly you snap out of your memories and thoughts. ''Hello Miss'' you reply with a polite smile and as you look at her you can see her features changing. ''Oh dear you don't look so well, are you okay?'' she asks and you simply nod, not really wanting to go into any details about your panic attacks or the state you were in moments before, but you can't deny how pale you are and how shaken you seem.

''Have you handed in your thesis yet?'' she asks but you shake your head ''I was just on the way'' you explain and she gives you an emphatic smile before saying ''I was just on my way over there too, come on'' and you follow her to the classroom where you are meant to hand it in.

As you arrive, you see some of your classmates, leaving the classroom, high-fiving each other and leaving with such a relieved and carefree expression, all the assignments, all the stress and exams finally over and the many sleepless nights now feeling like they were worth something.

You are greeted by Miss Parker ''Hi dear'' she greets you and you open your backpack and hand her your thesis with shaky hands, still not completely recovered from the panic attack. She looks at you, then Miss Anderson while retrieving the big folder that you carefully picked, every font, every word filled with so much detail. ''You just need to sign here now'' she explains and you do and she gives you a document after, that confirms you handed the biggest part of your entire work and time here, in now.

''You should probably get home and get some rest after all this exhausting time'' Miss Anderson suggests and you nod before Miss Parker jokingly says ''Oh come on she's young, she should be out celebrating'' and you smile at them before saying ''I will'' without explaining which suggestion you actually referred to and leaving the classroom with a polite smile.

[phynali]

so not to ruminate on things that vex me, but the past 2 or so months have been kinda shit, and i’m trucking along and there absolutely are high points and good things and joys that balance some of this out, but i need to vent out some of the negative emotions somewhere to get ‘em out. so i guess i’m doing that here because - 

we’re in lockdown#6 where i live (state of victoria) and it’s hard, this yo-yo of restrictions and swinging in and out of one lockdown after another. 

for those who understandably won’t know, what we call lockdown here means not just restaurant and commercial closures and mandatory working from home unless you’re in an industry where that’s impossible -- it also means no guests (0) inside you’re home unless you’re both living alone and single or else romantic partners, it means not leaving your home at all except for one of 4-5 necessary reasons, not being outside for more than 2hrs per day even to exercise, and not going more than 5km from your home unless required for work/medical/etc required reasons.

it’s intense. we spent (i think) 128 days in this degree of lockdown in 2020, never mind how many we spent in other forms of restrictions and working from home. and we’ve been back in it four (4) times in 2021 already. in-out-in-out-in-out - 

it’s taking a toll on the mental health of every person i know. we get weekly emails with wellbeing and resilience tips from my job -- not just “be productive or else” capitalism but heartfelt ones from wellbeing officers with copies of articles like this one on languishing from the NYT, acknowledging we’re all struggling and directing us to the plethora of wellbeing resources our workplace is trying to provide, not only to us but reminding us they offer it to our families too.

i’m one of the lucky ones. i’m really not trying to wallow here or to pretend otherwise. i appreciate that i can work from home, even though i can’t focus when i do and it this interacts with my adhd to fuck my productivity. even if i’m so behind and delayed it feels like i’ve lost 12-18 months worth of work and it will have long-term ramifications on my career -- even so, i still i have a job. i still get paid. and i even kept my job, a bit by the skin of my teeth but i did, when my sector downsized last year. yes, the way my employer went about lay offs left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth (my own included), but i made it through. 

and my sector, while affected, is by no means the worst of the collateral damage.

the yo-yo of lockdowns is taking a very very real toll on industries like hospitality, tourism, commerce. and the economy does have indirect effects on health and mental health as well. my friend, a waitress, was on her way to work the evening shift at a restaurant when she got the call about the latest lockdown. she had to turn around and go home because the announcement came just hours before the lockdown was imposed, and every place suddenly had to close by 8pm. bye bye evening shift. so much of the government support for these industries has dried up, has been inadequate. 

lockdowns save lives. i don’t begrudge my state for imposing one except that yes -- i’m resentful we’re here again with only six cases. i can be both accepting and grateful and also pissed and tired and more all at once. 

even more than the latest lockdown, i’m pissed about the yo-yo. that we went into lockdown in june, came out in july, went back in in july, came back out in july, are going back in now, in the first week of august. three lockdown/re-openings in 10 weeks, as if this rollercoaster doesn’t completely incapacitate our ability to plan or prepare for anything more than a week out, more than a day out -- in this case, more than a few hours out. 4pm the lockdown was announced, with an 8pm start time. as if that doesn’t have more insidious consequences on individuals and industries than a more clearly articulated and consistent approach. as if all the restaurants that got to open up this week didn’t purchase large food orders for this weekend that will spoil because they were given 4 hours notice to close their doors.

that’s the part i hate, right now more than the lockdowns themselves. consumer sentiment was at a high in april, optimism was everywhere. people felt good, and like we had a plan forward. now -- well, now my job is sending me emails about how normal and okay it is that i might be ‘languishing’ because aren’t we all?

and i absolutely do begrudge my federal government, and i’m angry with them, and this is part of why:

but i also accept, to some extent, that these decisions have all been made in difficult circumstances, and i’m not really about to pretend i could do any better. 

at the same time, australia’s vaccine rollout is among the slowest and lowest at least within OECD countries. i know that’s partly because we’ve managed the keep cases low and therefore we are prioritized less when it comes to who needs the vaccines most (and thus who is earlier in line to be able to purchase) among other geo-political reasons i won’t get into, but it still very much sucks. our timeline and ability to move forward and ability to stop having lockdowns requires a mostly-vaccinated population, and that’s not something we’ll have anytime soon.

and i am a visa-holder here and my family is back in canada and with our current border restrictions leaving to visit is honestly is not an option because i wouldn’t be able to return, to work. i’m managing that distance okay most of the time despite my homesickness and frustration but my partner’s parents are older and his mother’s health just isn’t amazing and it’s weighing on him a lot. 

a phd student i work with just had a parent die in another country while stuck here, had to drop everything to return, is devastated by not being by their parent’s side when it happened because it came on sudden, and now won’t be able to come back into australia after, will have to finish their thesis remotely from abroad. stories like that are becoming commonplace in certain circles, here. this student is not the first or only person i know who has been in that exact situation in the past year.

it’s enraging, and upsetting, and instills a sense of helplessness because -- there’s nothing that can really be done about it. there’s no good answer, but it’s scary to think of what could happen. i know it scares my husband. if his mother’s health suddenly dips -- does he drop everything and leave? how can he not? would i go with him or hold the fort here? what ramifications does that have either way?

right now, we’re in the first stages of getting permanent residency, my job is putting in the nomination, and this is one of those awesome high-points i mentioned. it’s a very much needed sense of security in my career and my future in this country. but while a PR application is pending and under review, you can’t leave the country, even in pre-covid times. it takes months to get the application fully nominated, accepted, then submitted, and months on months to process.

in january 2020 we had agreed that for xmas 2020 we’d return home to canada. obviously the world changed and we quickly determined that wouldn’t be the case. we pushed that plan back to july-aug 2021, then to october 2021, xmas 2021. my partner’s sister asked him last week if we started making plans, booking things for xmas, was calling to check that we’d had our second jabs. he had to explain the situation to her, that we aren’t even eligible for our first vaccine yet, that we aren’t holding out any real hope of visiting, not this year, not until mid-next.

anyway - i’m just. languishing, i guess, if that’s the word for it after all. i know it’s not the same as depression -- i’ve had episodes of that, been treated for it in different ways. this is and feels different, even if there are obvious similarities. whatever to call it, it sucks, and i hate it. and i hate the other lows and anxieties and crap i’ve been dealing with in the past few months as well that didn’t make it into this post about covid. crap with work, with friends, with goddamn car rentals of all stupid things. crap that’s making me anxious and crap that just needs processing. crap that is, ultimately, massively exacerbated because lockdowns turn us into little rats gnawing on the bars of our cages.

and i guess i just needed to talk about it somewhere, to organize my thoughts and free up some headspace (emotion space?) currently being used to hold these thoughts and feelings in place. i kind of hate posting personal crap like this and always get the urge to delete but i also have a hard time organising my thoughts if i don’t write them out with this intent to post. sort of want to go outside and scream at god, sort of want to phone up a friend and yell at him for an hour for being an exhausting ass, sort of want to be alone for a day to curl up under a blanket with a movie that’ll make me cry because raging at the universe is always so much easier when i’m alone and unobserved. but i guess since those aren’t especially kind or feasible i’ll post this instead.

anyway - if you read to the end of this for any reason, i’m not trying to be maudlin, and there’s really no need to respond. it’s just a feelings dump, sucking some of the poison out, not really much different than journalling but i’ve always been better at that online than on paper. 

[hillariat]

Bubbline fic finished!

Posted the final chapter of my Bubbline fic, check it out!

Also huge thanks to @hehe-food​ for beta-ing both the 3 and the final chapter

Unexpected

Setting: Highschool AU

Status | Wordcount: Complete |  5,770

Tags: Fluff, emotionally confused PB.

Summary: Marceline confesses to her long time friend Bonnie. It takes an unexpected turn and, just as things were back to normal, takes another one.

AKA It's Bonnie's gay awakening.

Read it on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/30298620/chapters/74678148 OR down below

The hurried pat-pat of Bonnie’s footsteps echoed through the hallways. Her legs, exhausted from a student council meeting that dragged on for far too long, begged her to slow down by at least 30%. She ignored them. She really didn’t want to keep Marceline waiting any longer than she had to after all.

When Bonnie reached the music room, she heard a familiar tune being played. Smiling to herself, she pushed the door open and saw Marceline perched upon a table and chair in a seat-footstool combo, strumming on her bass guitar. The raven-haired girl turned to Bonnie and smirked.

"’Sup Brainlord, how’s the prep meet?"

“Terrible, Becky wouldn’t shut up about adding more “tasteful” food to the school breakfast program even though that’s clearly out of our budget. It literally took us over half an hour just to move on to another topic.” Bonnie sighed and continued. “If she wasn’t so high up the pecking order, I’d have kicked her out. Personally.”

Marceline nudged her shoulder.

“I could do it for you”

“And be expelled? No thanks. As much as I hate Becky, I don’t think you leaving is worth it.”

Her heart lurched, practically begging to be freed from her chest. She opted to shrug it off, instead turning away from Bonnie to start packing her bass.

“Maybe I could do a prank instead. Y’know something that says, ‘fuck off from student council or else.’”

Bonnie raised her brows.

“Oh, and what would this prank be?”

By the time the girls left the school building, several rotten sandwiches and a passive aggressively typed note were left in Becky’s locker.

__________________________________________________________

"Thanks again for waiting up for me."

Bonnie entered the front passenger seat of Marceline’s car, inhaling the familiar scent of leather, strawberry and wood that probably came from an acoustic instrument lying around somewhere.

“Dude not this again. I told you, you don’t have to thank me every time I wait up for you. It’s like, our thing to hang out on Tuesdays anyways.”

Bonnie buckled in her own seatbelt whilst Marceline started the engine.

“Still, I appreciate the gesture. Not everyone would wait 2 hours just to have afternoon tea with their friend.”

Marceline felt a blush threaten to reveal itself on her cheeks. She really needed to get those butterflies in her ribs under control. She raised her hand, the other hand focused on driving out of the parking lot. “No. Stop with the sap. You’re turning me into a marshmallow.”

“You’re already a marshmallow, Marshmaline”

She gave a playful whack, accompanied by a glare. “Shut up! I am not a marshmallow, I’m too punk rock!”

Bonnie rolled her eyes, unfazed by the other’s glare. They had long lost their terrorizing effect on her. “Sure you are. Oh! That reminds me”

She dug through her bag, fishing out a pack of guitar strings and handing it to Marceline. “Gauge 9 right?”

“Wha- Bon. You didn’t have to.”

Bonnie waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I distinctly remember a certain someone complaining about forgetting to buy them for 4th week in a row yesterday.” She turned away from Marceline, opting to look at the passing traffic. “and… well, I just happen to pass by the music store when I was at the mall with Lady yesterday.”

Marceline gave her a heartwarming smile.

“Aww, thanks mom”

Bonnie huffed.

“What would you do without me?”

Marceline snorted, smile still evident on her face.

“Forgetting them for another week probably.”

Bonnie chuckled.

“Damn right”

__________________________________________________________

The girls reached their destination, a quaint little café tucked in a quiet neighborhood near their school. Marceline introduced it to Bonnie a while ago, insisting that the red velvet cakes were “to die for”. Bonnie wouldn’t put it the same way, but she did admit that the food was “more than acceptable”. The place quickly became their favorite hangout spot, next to the diner ran by their friend’s ( Finn’s) parents. Though that diner was more of a clique hangout spot. This was more of a 'just them' spot.

They ordered their drinks, an apple pie to share and of course, a slice of red velvet cake for Marceline. They sat at their table, indulging in said items whilst making idle conversation, ranging from the food to Marceline’s music to school gossip.

Bonnie noticed how her shoulders were a little tense, how she would pick and flick her own fingers and how her eyes wandered in a way that said her thoughts weren’t entirely focused on the present. Marceline was clearly bothered by something.

The Bonnie of 5 years ago would’ve pried her incessantly, but now she knew better. Marceline was the kind of person that needed space to figure things out. She would tell Bonnie what was eating at her when she was good and ready. Any prying on Bonnie’s end would lead to scathing remarks and, if allowed to escalate, a fight. Hence, despite the well-meaning itch that urged her to figure out what was bothering her best friend, Bonnie didn’t ask. Respecting Marceline’s boundaries was more important.

When Marceline’s giggling fit died down after a joke about a certain lemon-faced principal , she took a deep breath. She warily made eye contact with Bonnie.

“I need to tell you something. Its -It’s important”

“Okay”. Bonnie nodded and kept her eyes at Marceline expectantly, conveying that Marceline had her full undivided attention. A long, pregnant pause ensued. Bonnie was tempted to break the silence, but Marceline got there first.

“I’m gay.”

Okay. That wasn’t what Bonnie expected. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay, no not at all. Bonnie was just very unfamiliar with coming-out-of-the-closet etiquette. After all, most of her friends were straight.

She was clearly out of her element here. How should she respond to this? Did Marceline want a boisterous congratulation? Or a simple acceptance? In the end, Bonnie did what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do with that information?”

Marceline raised her brows in surprise. She was expecting more of a reaction to that. Bonnie had just…. rolled with it. Maybe her fears were indeed unfounded. Maybe. It was still too early to tell.

Marceline took a deep breath, gathering what little courage it could provide and continued.

“I’m gay for you. As in, I like you. Like, like-like you.”

For a moment, Bonnie was tempted to make fun of Marceline’s unironic use of “like-like” but knew better than to do that. Instead, she was contemplating her response to it. She knew exactly what she should say, she knew her answer to that obvious unsaid question, but the vulnerable expression on Marceline’s face made her hesitate. Marceline looked so fragile, as if a gentle breeze could shatter her. The only other time Bonnie saw the other like this was when Marceline’s mother had passed.

Bonnie furrowed her brows, bit her bottom lip, and took a deep breath. It was definitely going to hurt, but she was good at making tough decisions for the people she cared about.

“I … don’t feel the same way. I’ve only ever seen you as a friend. I’m sorry Marceline.”

She could see Marceline shattering right in front of her. The girl’s shoulders slumped, a frown formed on her face and, most troubling of all; the light in the girl’s eyes dimmed. For a moment Bonnie wanted to take her words back, to make Marceline beam instead with an acceptance. But she knew from experience that giving false hope was worse than a flat-out rejection, so she kept her mouth shut.

In a flash, Marceline’s demeanor switched. She had a smile plastered on her face and her posture likewise improved. Perhaps it was a prepared response, as if she already knew this was the probable outcome. Though her newfound demeanor couldn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s cool. It’s cool.”

She paused as if unsure as to whether she should utter the next line. She opened her mouth, her voice wavered before she could even muster the first word.

“We can still be friends, right?” Accompanied with, again, a vulnerable expression. But this time it came from a girl who was already kicked down.

“Of course.” and Marceline wasn’t the only one who wanted to believe that.

They fell into silence, neither girl looking at each other anymore. There were no more words to be said on the matter. Bonnie glanced at the clock in the café. Time ticked by slowly, as if a second was enough time to write an entire thesis.

She searched for a change of topic, not wanting the silence to stretch into awkward territory. Her eyes wandered the surroundings and found it on their table. She gestured to the item.

“Are you going to finish that cake?” Bonnie’s fork was already threateningly hovering above the slice of cake.

Marceline smirked and hoped she didn’t misread Bonnie’s seemingly playful tone.

“I swear, one day you’re gonna get diabetes Bon. You’re such a sugar slut.”

Bonnie completely ignored her friend’s warning and grabbed the last bit of cake, eating it with a slight smile on her face.

“And you – She pointed to Marceline with her empty fork- are distasteful.”

Marceline laughed at that, the tension now fully leaving her. Bonnie could say the same, though she was just smiling at her friend.

Things were going to be okay.

Chapter 2: Confusion

The coffee cup made a clack as it landed on the table.

“Figured you’d want this.” Marceline flashed a toothy grin, though this one was softer than the usual mischievous one. Still, it was one Bonnie was well acquainted with.

Her stomach squirmed. She blinked. Odd. She didn’t remember having shellfish the night before.

“Uhhm, thanks.” She didn’t know why she fumbled. Marceline always got her coffee for their afternoon study sessions. She took a sip. Caramel Macchiato with an extra shot and drizzle, just the way she liked it, though for some reason, today it tasted a little sweeter.

Marceline plotted herself next to Bonnie and started rummaging through her bag. “So, what’s on the agenda today Bonbon?”

Bonnie scribbled in her notebook, having already started on her work. “Maths. We have 2 assignments due soon so I figured we should start.”

Marceline nodded and got her stuff out. For a good half hour, the only sounds that came from their table were the scrawls of pens, the clicking of calculators, turning of pages and occasionally, some curse words muttered under Marceline’s breath. Eventually though, the relative silence was broken.

“Hey, what’d you get for 3c?”

“69.3”

Bonnie saw a toothy grin appear on Marceline’s face. She frowned and shot a glare in return. That girl better not do wh –

“Thirst much, Bonnibel?”

She groaned. “Really Marceline? Get your head out of the gutter.”

Marceline shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one writing innuendos as answers.”

“Not my fault the teacher likes putting innuendos as answers”.

Marceline chuckled, then she glanced over to Bonnie’s notebook. “Anyways, how’d you get that number?” She leaned over to get a closer look at Bonnie’s homework, now just close enough for Bonnie to smell what shampoo the other used. It was strawberry. Bonnie took note of Marceline’s face, how her brows scrunched in concentration, how her green eyes always held a beautiful shade of green, how her raven hair cascaded down her face, framing her sharp jawline and how her lips pouted at a formula she obviously didn’t understand. Bonnie wondered if those lips felt soft. Wait, what?

“Earth to Bonnie? You there? Hello?” Marceline waved her hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Oh. Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said what’s the deal with this guy? -She gestured to some convoluted looking math term- How did it get to this?”

“Oh, well..” Bonnie went on to explain how she derived the expression, going through it step by step as she usually did, pushing away any strange thoughts of the girl next to her. They were just a fluke after all. Nothing more than spontaneous curiosity.

__________________________________________________________

It happened again a couple of days later. Marceline was casually humming along to a punk rock song in her car with Bonnie seated next to her, quietly scrolling through her phone. The song was crass, mocking, harsh even, filled with edginess that stereotyped the genre. But somehow when the same song came from Marceline’s vocal cords, hummed in a low tone, it sounded so much more…beautiful. Smooth. Gentle. It felt like a cloud was encompassing her, warm and welcoming.

Bonnie felt her insides turn to jello. Strange how she never noticed Marceline's voice having this effect.

She frowned. Something was up. Lightning never struck twice in the same place after all.

“You got your thinking face on Bonnie. What’s up?”

“Oh. Nothing, I was just zoning out”

Marceline smirked, “Lemme guess, thinking of another experiment? Or wait, OH. Trying to answer one of the greatest mysteries of life.”

Bonnie glanced at her lap. Her hands were fiddling with loose jean threads. “You could say that.”

__________________________________________________________

The rest of the week, and the next, followed the same pattern. Bonnie and Marceline would hang out and Marceline would do something utterly mundane and Bonnie would find herself getting the squirmies. Her insides would twist and turn in all sorts of funny ways and she would find her cheeks embarrassingly warm.

She found herself lying down on her own bed, gazing at the ceiling with a half bolster clutched in her arms and contemplating the confusing experiences of the previous weeks. This was the 5th night in a row she had done this.

She has had both male and female suitors confessing to her before, though none of them were as close to her as Marceline was. However, she never gave them more than a second’s worth of thought as she preferred to utilize her brain’s resources on more important things. Chiefly; her schoolwork, independent science projects and her student council duties.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Could she…like Marceline?

She frowned; brows scrunched and lips upturned in confusion.

She had never experienced a crush on a girl before. What she had told Marceline was nothing but honest, she genuinely had never seen the other girl in a light that wasn’t platonic. Marceline was indeed only a dear friend to her. Nothing had changed between them, so why did her insides turn to mush when Marceline did something as mundane as laugh at her own joke or open a door for her. It didn’t make any sense.

Bonnie’s clock read 02:14am and she figured she should get some sleep before school. With heavy lidded eyes, Bonnie concluded that she should do what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

__________________________________________________________

Bonnie found her in the music room, as usual. She was alone. Good. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and gripped her bag strap tightly. She didn’t know why she was the one who felt terrified, after all she was the one planning on basically cornering Marceline with a potentially awkward situation. She took a deep breath and entered the room.

Marceline turned to her, ceasing the strum of her bass. She flashed a warm smile. “Hey Bon, what’s up?”

“Marceline, do you want to go on a date?” At the sight of Marceline’s confused face, she added “With me. Romantically.”

Marceline raised her brows, even more confused than before. “Dude, I thought you weren’t into me that way? You said so like 2 weeks ago.”

She was right. Bonnie only hoped that her persuasion skills were good enough. “While it is true that I've never seen you in that way before, I don’t think it’d be a bad idea to try?” She paused, not really sure how to phrase it less awkwardly. “So, let’s go on a romantic date and see how that goes.”

Marceline looked downright offended by that offer. Was there some homosexual etiquette Bonnie was missing out on?

“I don’t need a pity date.”

Oh. OH. Oh god was that it how it sounded like? Bonnie knew she had to rectify the situation and soon.

“No no. It’s not that. It’s…“ Bonnie broke eye contact with Marceline, instead favoring the ground. She wasn’t sure why she felt so flustered, maybe it was because admitting the truth was embarrassing. “I’ve been thinking about us. How I feel about you, ever since that day you confessed.” Bonnie started fiddling with her hands.

Marceline tensed. She didn’t know where this was going, but she was paranoid and listened to every echoing thought in her head that said this was going to end up bad. Crap. She thought she was out of the woods after that day in the café.

”and I know I said that I hadn’t felt anything but platonic towards you before, and that’s true. But now I’m not so sure.”

Marceline furrowed her brows. What did she just say, was she implying that – “I…I might like you romantically. Or not. I don’t know. I was hoping that going on a date would help me figure things out. Its more for me really.”

Marceline blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Bonnie had…mixed feelings for her? No, rather Bonnie wasn’t sure how she felt. Marceline released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding until now. It wasn’t an ideal outcome, but it was certainly not the worst that could have come from her confession to the redhead.

Taking Marceline’s prolonged silence as a no, Bonnie continued. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to even suggest that considering everything you’ve been through. Just forge-“

Marceline raised her hand to stop her babbling. “I get it. Figuring out your sexuality is hard and you’re not exactly swimming in gay friends. I'm down for it. But you have to promise me this.” She looked straight into Bonnie’s eyes, holding down probably the most serious stare she could muster. “The moment you figure out your feelings for me, you have to tell me. Even if it hurts me. Its just-I just need to know as soon as possible.” Her voice wavered. “Please.”

Bonnie nodded, understanding the gravity of this.

Marceline let out a huge breath, visibly relaxing. She smiled.

“Alright. You free Friday night?”

Bonnie smiled back at her. “Yeah, pick me up at 7?”

Chapter 3: Consolidation

Bonnie didn’t think she would be one of those girls. The ones that would empty their entire closet and prance around their clothing littered room wondering why nothing there was good enough for their date. But here she was doing exactly just that.

It was just Marceline after all. They’ve hung out a billion times before.

Except it wasn’t just Marceline was it?

Bonnie groaned; this was infuriating. She dug through another pile of clothes on her bed, burying herself in thoughts of what to wear instead of trying to unpack the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

In the end, she settled for a white sundress. Well, “settle” was a stretch considering she was going to change again if she hadn’t been interrupted by a ring from the front door. She rushed out of her bedroom, hurriedly making her way down wooden stairs with a tap-tap from her feet.

“Is that Marceline?” Her mother called out from a distant room. Knowing her it was probably the living room. Bonnie did get her love of sappy cable TV rom-coms from her after all.

“Yeah, I got it! I’ll be back by midnight.” Bonnie replied. “Alright, text me if your plans change.” After a brief moment of silence, she added, “Oh, and keep yourselves out of trouble okay! I do not want to hear a peep about either of you from the cops again!”

Bonnie giggled, reminiscing that exact event from 6 months ago.

“Oh. Wow.” Bonnie’s gaze was fixated on the sunset, a bleary mix of reds, oranges and yellows fading into dark blues that casted a looming shadow, outlining the town center. Bonnie and Marceline were on top of a ruined four story building without a roof which was nestled on top of a steep hill, giving them a brilliant vantage point that overlooked the entire t-

“Right.” Marceline flashed a cocky smirk. “Told you this place had the best view.” And she wasn’t wrong.

Bonnie scoffed. “Well sorry I thought otherwise when you dragged me through a forest, a chain link fence and an abandoned construction site.”

Marceline snorted. “What did you think I was gonna do?”

“Kill me and the hide the body?”

“Pfft, if I did that, whose homework would I copy of off?”

“Uh,” She tapped her chin, actually giving the question some thought. “Finn’s?”

Marceline looked at her with bewilderment, one eyebrow quirked above the other. “Dude, you know the whole point of copying off someone else is to pass, not fail.” Bonnie huffed, “Okay, fair point. But – "

“Hey, what are you two doing here?! Get down now!”

They snapped their heads to the source of the yelling. Down on the ground floor stood a middle-aged security guard, practically steaming with red-hot fury. Both girls looked at each other, conveying some unsaid message to each other, seemingly in agreement.

Then they ran.

After hopping through several cinder blocks and steel beams sprinkled with a few swears and complaints about thinking the place was abandoned, they got to a chain-linked fence. Knowing that they were pressed for time with the security guard hot on their tail, they opted to try to squeeze through a tiny gap on the bottom of the fence instead of climbing over it as they did before.

Bonnie crawled through just fine, merely getting some scuffs and dirt marks on her pullover. Marceline on the other hand got stuck, her “fashionable” ripped tank top getting caught on stray fence wiring. Both girls rushed to untangle Marceline, but with the stomp-stomp of booted footsteps coming ever closer to them, Marceline pulled Bonnie’s hands away from herself.

“Bon. I’m fine, just.. go ahead without me”

“But- “ Marceline pushed her away, stopping any argument Bonnie would give out.

“Go! I’ll text you when I’m home.” Bonnie stared at her for a moment in concern. Her eyes darted back and forth between her friend and the direction of the encroaching footsteps. Then she blurted,

“Shut the fuck up” and scrambled to get her friend out.

They both got caught.

After a phone call, a drive and long drawn-out conversation between Bonnie's mom and the police, both girls found themselves on the receiving end of a stern mother's gaze whilst seated on Bonnie's couch.

"Explain."

Before Bonnie could get a word out, Marceline started. "It was my idea Mrs. Butler, I dragged Bonnie to the construction site up at the hill near the end of town. I wanted to show her the sunset from up there.”

"The abandoned one?"

Marceline gave a sheepish smile "Well it turns out it wasn’t so abandoned after all".

Mrs. Butler wasn’t so amused. “Uh-huh.” She glanced at Bonnie, who was squirming in her seat from nervousness. "Bonnie, I know it wasn’t your plan but you still tagged along. You’re grounded for a week. That also means no access to the garage lab."

Bonnie groaned but didn’t feel the need to protest that decision. It was fairly light considering they did get the police involved.

Her mom turned to Marceline. "And Marceline. It’s late so you can stay over, but in the morning, I am going to have a talk with your father, got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

“Good, now I’m going to head to bed, it's late. Bonnie, be a dear and help set up the couch for Marceline” With that, Mrs. Butler went to her bedroom. Bonnie and Marceline started setting up the couch in silence, bringing out blankets and extra pillows from a nearby closet. Marceline wondered if this would be a good time to say what was on her mind, but was interrupted by Bonnie asking her to grab the duvet. When she dragged the duvet to the couch, Bonnie noticed her stumble a little. And then again. She was limping.

“Marceline, your leg!”

“Huh?” Marceline glanced down, seeing a small trail of blood running from her knees. Her very battered and cut knees. “Oh shit”

Bonnie immediately pushed Marceline to sit down on the couch, then ran off into the kitchen muttering something about alcohol. She then came back with a small first aid kit and began treating Marceline’s wounds. Marceline figured this was as good of a time as any.

“Sorry I got you in trouble. I didn’t know there was security there, I checked out the whole place and didn’t even see any keep out signs.” She fiddled nervously with the duvet below her.

Bonnie flashed a warm smile. “It’s fine, just…” She glanced down at Marceline’s knee and frowned, then looked up and made eye contact with her. “Be more careful next time?”

Marceline gave a reassuring smile.

“I will.”

Ding-ding-ding-ding! God, Marceline was one hell of an impatient girl. Bonnie rushed to open the door, silently cursing herself for zoning out for so long.

Marceline was clad in a red-black plaid flannel paired with a dark grey top and ripped black jeans. 'Classic Marceline,' thought Bonnie. Though in the raven-haired girl’s words it would’ve been classic gay, whatever that meant.

Marceline started, “Hey.” She flashed a gentle, earnest smile. She can do this. She’s good at playing cool. She’s the coolest person in school. Totally cool. Absolutely not having a heart attack right now.

“Hey.”

“You look great tonight.”

Bonnie smiled, soft and sweet. “Thanks, you look nice too.” She gestured to the other.

Marceline snorted. “Pfft, this is my normal outfit, what are you talking about?”

She smirked. Oh, it was all too easy to tease Marceline. “Maybe I think you look nice normally.”

Marceline spluttered into some incoherent murmurs. Her cheeks flushed crimson red and she scrambled to look at anywhere except Bonnie. Bonnie found it amusing.

She noticed that the raven-haired girl had her hands tucked behind her back, as if hiding an object from her view. Before she could ask though, Marceline beat her to it, having recovered from her gay panic.

“I, uhh, got you flowers.” She presented a bouquet of soft pink and white roses.

"Flowers?"

Marceline averted her gaze, instead staring at the small scuff marks on her shoes."Yeah. Figured I'd, uhmm....give you the full date experience." But the flustered cheeks and wavering voice said there was more to it than that.

Bonnie felt a heavy pang strike through her chest. She didn’t say anything about it though, figuring that it was a little too late to back out now. "Thanks."

She took the flowers into the kitchen and quickly deposited them into an empty vase. Then she rushed back out and hopped into Marceline’s car and they drove off. She turned to Marceline. “So, where are we going?”

Marceline smirked. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“At least tell me if it's legal. I promised my mom I wouldn’t get in trouble with the cops tonight.” She crossed her arms and pouted. Marceline thought it was adorable and wondered if she should comment. She didn’t.

Instead, she let out a cackle. “Nah it's totally legal. Don’t worry about it.”

They continued the drive in relatively peaceful silence, with only the radio to fill in the space. Bonnie’s gaze fell to her lap, where she fiddled with the hem of her dress. This was it. She was going on a date. With her best friend. Marceline was her date. Huh. Sounds weird.

Chapter 4: Conclusion

Bonnie glanced at the building, eyes widening at the familiar sight of the local science museum. "I thought you didn’t like science?"

Marceline shrugged, "I don’t. But I'm down for learning about the things you like.” She flashed a gentle smile and Bonnie's insides went into a tumbling frenzy of butterflies and thrumming heartbeats. “Now c’mon, this place closes at 9!"

Before her insides could murder her further, she found herself being dragged to the building, hands intertwined and all. Bonnie couldn’t bring herself to complain.

They grabbed their tickets from the ticketing booth and then trailed through the museum, weaving through various exhibits from electrochemistry to evolution to tectonic plates. They stopped by an anatomy exhibit; Bonnie having decided that the musculoskeletal system was an absolute must-see.

“Oooooh, the knee joint!”

Marceline quirked her brows, “What makes this one so special?”

"Well, it is the largest joint in our body, and y’know, THE joint that enables us to walk.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it like, weak? I always hear about people having busted knees or something.”

“That is true. That’s mostly because it does endure a lot of force when we’re using it, about one and a half times our body weight when walking and eight times when squatting.” Bonnie paused for a moment. ”Oh! And it’s also susceptible to numerous pathological conditions like arthritis”

Marceline hummed absentmindedly, then said, “Heh, y’know, you’re just like osteoarthritis” -she turned to her and flashed a toothy grin-” ’Cause you make my knees weak.”

Bonnie stared at her as if she grew another head. A pause ensued, just as awkward and confused as Bonnie’s expression. It went on for a bit, what with Marceline having no clue how to handle it and Bonnie trying to piece together what in the world just happened. She eventually broke the silence with a snort and a smile.

"Well," She moved closer to the other, interlinking their arms together. "You’re like a cation because you’re positively attractive.”

Marceline doubled down, practically filling the museum with cackles. Her cheeks were tinted red, though whether that was from being flustered or from the strain of laughter Bonnie couldn’t tell.

“Omg Bonnie that’s…” She took a breath in an attempt to get her chuckles to die down. ”That’s so you.” Another fit of laughter hit her.

Bonnie floundered, muttering a brief string of indecipherable words and turning away from Marceline in a vain attempt to hide her beet-red face.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. I didn’t say it was bad. It's….” Marceline rubbed her neck, eyes purposely averting Bonnie’s gaze. “It’s actually really cute.” She flashed a tentative smile. Her cheeks mirrored Bonnie’s.

Bonnie pouted, “Geez, you really can’t take a compliment, can you?”

“Welp, sorry, my parents are as emotionally constipated as I am.”

Bonnie chuckled, then tugged the other along to another exhibit.

They wandered through the exhibits one by one, with Bonnie rambling on about the four ventricles of the heart and some Newtonian mechanics and Marceline occasionally quipping in with a flirt or a joke (usually a pun).

“You wanna go watch a movie? I heard they’re premiering the remake of the Thing at the old theatre downtown” Marceline asked. They had finished a full round at the Museum, just in the nick of time as an announcement declared that the museum was closing. Now they were making their way to the carpark.

Bonnie was a little surprised that Marceline would have heard of the Thing. She didn’t seem like someone who would keep up with Sci-fi remakes, then again, the Thing was also a horror, that could explain it.

Bonnie shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.” She glanced down at their still intertwined hands. It was all still surreal to her. She really was on a date. With Marceline.

“Bon? You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just…uhh, zoning out. Yep. Heh.” She really, really wished she was better at lying. Marceline raised her brows but didn’t comment any further, to Bonnie’s relief.

__________________________________________________________

They wound up seated in a small theatre, with Marceline sipping on her soda and Bonnie occasionally munching on popcorn. Bonnie glanced at Marceline, wondering if she should be doing something at this moment. Their arms were still interlinked, still a fairly platonic gesture. She wondered if she should push it, cross the platonic boundary a little bit more. After all Marceline clearly had with her incessant flirting. She supposed she should reciprocate by initiating something too.

And so, cautiously, Bonnie leaned in, slowly placing her head on the crook of Marceline's shoulder. Marceline tensed for a moment, and for that moment Bonnie wondered if she should retreat. But then Marceline relaxed and leaned in.

Cuddling wasn't something the girls ever did together in their friendship. Physical affection, whilst there with casual hand-holding, a hug here and there and such, was always kept at a respectable distance. This was new and if the butterflies in Bonnie’s stomach were anything to go by, it was a good kind of new.

Maybe dating wasn’t so weird after all.

__________________________________________________________

Marceline brought Bonnie to her doorstep in silence. Not the comfortable kind that they often shared. No, this was tense, heavy, as though there was a huge anvil weighing them down. Both of them clearly knew why, it was the end of their date after all. Neither of them really wanted to start, but, feeling obligated because this was her idea, Bonnie did.

"As cliche as it sounds, I really had a good time tonight." After a short pause, she added, "I'd like to do it again sometime."

Marceline’s brows shot up into her hairline. "Wait does this mean -"

“Ehp!” She croaked. Despite knowing what Marceline's reaction would be, Bonnie still found a lump rising in her throat. She took a breath and tried again.

“Yeah.” Bonnie smiled tentatively.

Marceline’s face went through various stages of metamorphosis, from confusion to disbelief to being completely flustered red. It finally settled on a dumbfounded smile with rose-tinted cheeks.

“That’s, wow.”

Bonnie giggled and crossed her arms. She just couldn’t resist the opportunity presented. “Really? You got your crush to like you back and all you can say is ‘wow’. Real smooth Marceline.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Bonnie could practically hear the pout from her. She snickered and Marceline desperately scrambled for a change in topic. She found one and smirked.

"Does this mean I can kiss you? Coz you were so obvious with the staring just now"

Bonnie scoffed. “We both know I wasn’t staring, nice try though. As for the other thing,” She averted her gaze and gave a non-committal shrug. “Maybe on the second date, or the third”

Marceline grinned. “Ooooh, there’s gonna be a third date now?”

“Only if you behave.” She deadpanned.

Marceline cackled, her voice echoing throughout the silent neighborhood. Soon enough, Bonnie couldn’t help but join and now in between the quiet of suburbia were the giggles of two girls.

They kissed on the second date.

[brasskier]

@badthingshappenbingo trope #3 (and this one was actually requested!)

Thank you to the incredible @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde for reading this one over for me!

Trope: Suicide attempt

Summary:  Yennefer's just running a few errands, and doesn't expect to end up talking Geralt's bard down from a rooftop. Jaskier is ready to leap, and doesn't expect a certain mage to interrupt his grand finale. Both of them might just walk away with a better understanding of one another. (Or, a character study in borderline personality disorder.)

TW for suicidal ideation/threats/gestures and reference to self-harm. The descriptions aren’t graphic and he doesn’t actually jump, but this whole fic deals with suicide and mental illness. Be safe y’all <3

Read it on my ao3 or below the cut:

The trip to Tretogor wasn’t supposed to last long. Replenish her stock after the utter disaster that was the dragon hunt, some odds and ends as she came upon them, maybe get absolutely shitfaced and forget the whole thing happened. That was all. And it looked like, for a pleasant change of pace, there weren’t going to be any complications. Errands finished, Yennefer was enjoying a hearty roast at one of the better taverns in the city when she noticed the early warnings of a brewing commotion. First murmurs, then the voices grew louder and more persistent, and then people were pushing outside. She ignored them; a petty barfight was not something she particularly wanted or needed to get involved with. The bar was still stirring, and eventually when she finally shifted her focus off her roast, the tavern was near-empty, only the drunkest of patrons remaining. Even the barkeep was shuffling outside. Clearly, something was happening. Something big. With a beleaguered sigh, she pushed up from her chair and headed out the door.

A surprisingly large crowd greeted her outside, more expansive than the usual clamor around a simple drunken brawl. She approached the barkeep, standing on the outskirts of the mob, and she didn’t even have to speak before the barkeep jerked his head skyward. She traced his gaze to the roof of a towering building casting its shadow over them.

“Poor sod’s gonna jump, I reckon,” the barkeep ruminated, eyes still fixed upwards. In place of the massive beast she fully expected to be perched atop the building stood the figure of a man, trembling at the very edge of the roof. She squinted, an uncanny familiarity settling into her gut.

She mumbled her half-hearted thanks, already pushing through a portal to the rooftop. The man, still frozen in place on the opposite edge, didn’t seem to notice the sudden company, and her uneasiness grew into a sinking dread.

“Jaskier?” she called, tentatively, afraid to startle him. Any last shred of hope that she was mistaken (though the intricately embroidered doublet was hard to mistake) was gone when he jerked his head back to face her. His mouth was agape, an uncomfortable mixture of surprise and disappointment drawn across his features. “What are you doing?”

“The fuck does it look like?” He snapped back. There was more than his usual sarcasm or mock-incredulity in his voice, real and deep-felt anger coloring his tone.

“Don’t do it,” she urged, surprising herself with the tenderness in her own words. “Come on now. Just come down.” Why did she care? The question gnawed in the back of her mind, and she did her damndest to push it aside. She’s a good person, after all, right? She’d do it for anyone, surely. None of Geralt’s not-getting-involved nonsense.

“Fuck off, Yennefer.” He let out a barking laugh, thin and breathy, pitching forward ever so slightly with the force of it. She felt her whole body tense, hands reaching out reflexively.

“Where’s Geralt? What happened?” This was, apparently, the single worst line of conversation she could’ve settled on, because he dropped abruptly to a squat and for a split second she was certain she was about to witness the man’s death. 

“I’m not his fucking keeper.” He was nearly at a roar now, a fever-pitch that sent a shiver down Yennefer’s spine. “Haven’t seen him in a week. Not since— not since—” Though she couldn’t see his face, his eyes fixed resolvedly on the ground below, she could hear the tears cut through his words, his breath hiccuping.

“Shh,” she hushed him. Clearly, something had happened after she stormed off. What, precisely, could wait until later, when he was back on solid ground. “I know. It’s not fair.”

“The fuck do you know about fair?” he scoffed, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around his abdomen against the biting wind. 

“He fucked me over, too.” She should’ve been offended, and she would’ve been if she wasn’t far more concerned with making sure the bard didn’t fling himself into an early demise, which would be decidedly unfair. That sentiment did little to ease him, and withdrew no response. “Fuck Geralt,” she declared, trying again. “Damn brute thinks he can just take as he pleases.”

“And— and then discard you once he’s had his fill,” he mumbled, offering her the slightest glance back, tears glistening against the pink of his cheeks. 

“You’re better than that,” she set forth like a thesis. “You’re — loathe as I am to admit it — talented, bard. People like you. You’ll find plenty of material to write about.” Perhaps an appeal to both logos and pathos would be sufficient, at least enough to get him off the ledge. 

“It won’t be the same.” He frowned tragically over his shoulder at her. “I've lost it all, Yen. Look at me— I'm just a silhouette.”

“That's nonsense. He… you're more than him. He's not everything.” It felt ridiculous to her, throwing yourself off a roof over an argument with a friend. After all, Jaskier had always managed to exist in the spaces between Geralt before; teaching, or penning his next obnoxious ballad, or bedding married women, or whatever it is overgrown manchild bards do. But, then, she'd almost killed herself to restore something she knew she could never get back. So perhaps they were even.

“Look, this is awfully sweet of you, but—” he swept his arm, gesturing vaguely at nothing in particular. “Just let me go. I’m doing everyone a favor.” He turned his attention back to the ground, wind rippling through his hair. “Should’ve done this a long time ago.” She felt her heart skip — a long time ago? This wasn’t just a histrionic reaction to whatever might’ve occurred between him and Geralt; gods knew how long he’d felt like this.

“You know I can’t do that,” she retorted, drawing tentatively closer. “Don’t make me portal you down.” He huffed, waving her off with a trembling hand. 

“Please, Yen.” Realistically, she knew it would be easy to oblige his request. Walk away, pretend not to hear the sickening thud, and carry on. He was only her ex-witcher’s ex-bard, after all. “I always knew it'd end like this. I’m just… I’m glad I even made it past thirty, really.” 

“That’s— I’m not— no, Jaskier. I’m not letting you throw yourself off a roof, for the love of the gods. That’s insane.” She wasn’t sure what was more insane, letting him go, or standing here arguing with him. “You’re going to be real glad when you make it to forty, bard.”

“Am I though, really? This isn’t my first time, believe it or not. And every time I live, or I back out, or I let someone talk me out of it. And I always regret it in the end.” Her mind reeled again — every time? How many had there been? She pushed the thought back.

“You won’t find out unless you get down,” she argued, drawing closer still. He tensed, sensing her presence, hands balling and unfurling repetitively. “Come on. Go to the tavern with me, get something to eat, have a—” she was close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath now “—more drink. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning, and if you still regret it, well…” 

“Fine,” he finally agreed on the tail end of a sigh, turning to fully face her. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” She didn’t like the resolve with which he said those words, but he was agreeing to come down, which at least was a small victory. She’d handle tomorrow when it came around. In the meantime she needed to get them both down. “Or eventually,” he tacked on as she held her hands out, forming a portal back to solid ground. “Inevitably.” The word rang in her mind as she looped an arm around him and led him through the portal. As an afterthought, she summoned a blanket with a flick of her fingers; it was one of those cheap, thin blankets they kept at the inn, but it would do. She tossed it over his shoulders and he dug his fingers into the fabric, drawing it closer around himself.

Once they were back in the tavern, that thin blanket still draped over Jaskier's shoulders and mug of ale held in shaking hands, it was time to talk.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, dragging his thumb up and down the cool tankard, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs. “I’ve caused such a fuss. You must be anxious to get out of here.” He finally glanced in her direction when he felt a hand land on his forearm.

“It’s fine, really,” she insisted, and he couldn’t bear the pity in her eyes. “Now are you going to tell me what that was all about?” He huffed a laugh, looked away again.

“It’s just, you know. Me and my theatrics.” He shrugged, running a hand along his jaw.

“Bullshit.” When, exactly, Yennefer had gotten so good at seeing right through him, he wasn’t sure. But he did know he definitely didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry. I just, I… I get like that, I guess,” he muttered finally, dragging his thumb along the rim of his glass.

“Suicidal, you mean? You just get… suicidal?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow, moving her hand up to his shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess.” He reached blindly, dropped a hand over hers. “When something goes wrong. Someone leaves me again. I just, I fuck up a lot, and I’m no good at dealing with the concequences.” 

“That’s— gods, I know you’re an idiot, but that’s really worth killing yourself over?” She tried to keep her tone light, clipped, maybe a little detached. He was uneasy with the attention, it was obvious, and she was also certainly not ready to admit that maybe, just a tiny bit, she sort of cared about him.

“Geralt, he ran me off,” he mumbled, sinking further into the blanket. “After the hunt, after your fight, he blamed me. For everything, the entire two decades of our, well. I guess it wasn’t friendship.” He chewed at his lip, a nervous habit, anger bubbling below the surface at the thought of that day. “Told me the greatest gift life could give him would be to take me off his hands.” Yennefer balked at him, finally hearing the context of his despair, and she was just about ready to portal right over to wherever Geralt had fucked off to and give him a piece of her mind.

“That’s terrible,” she told him, the best she could really offer. Nothing she could say would undo what’d happened, and nothing could change how much it hurt him. “He really is a bastard.” Jaskier nodded slowly, raised his tankard up in toast. “When’s the last time you ate? You must be starving.”

“Stew would be nice,” he replied quietly, meekly. She haled one of the barkeeps, ordered him a stew, and requested another round of drinks. “It’s not just the fight, though,” he added once the server was gone. “I don’t know how to explain it, Yen. Why I do the things I do, or feel the way I feel. It’s just, it’s all too much sometimes, you know?” She knew. All too well, she knew. She was only just beginning to understand herself, just beginning to feel some semblance of control. He was so young — perhaps not by human standards, but comparatively. 

“I know. It’s hard.” They felt like empty platitudes, like she had no idea how to truly connect with him, and it was frustrating. She wanted to help him, but she wasn’t sure how, wasn’t sure he wanted it. 

“Yeah.” He bobbed his head, picked at the wood of the table. They drifted into silence, neither sure how to fill it, neither sure this was a conversation either wanted to have. The stew arrived, and he picked at it rather than devouring it like he usually did his rations. 

“You know I’m sterile, right?” she finally broke the silence once he’d finished his food and pushed the bowl aside, leaning closer, her voice pitched in a conspiratorial whisper. He nodded solemnly, averting his gaze, watching the light catch in his amber ale. “And you know I’ve gone to great lengths to rectify that, correct?” Another slow nod.

“I know, Yen. I’m sorry, I know you have far more right to be miserable than I do. And here I am, wallowing like a toddler—” She waved a hand to cut him off.

“No, listen, stupid bard. It’s really not about being able to have kids. It’s about the fact that I don’t have a choice, that I’ve never had a choice,” she elaborated, hiking the blanket further up his shoulders as it started to slip.

“I know. And here I am, I’ve gotten everything I wanted. I got to choose; running away, going to Oxenfurt, becoming a bard, traveling. Gods, I followed Geralt to the ends of the bloody Continent for two decades of my life I’ll never get back — but that was my choice.” 

“Would you please let me finish my point, instead of interrupting me to wallow in guilt?” He gnawed at his lip, finally turning to face her. “It wasn’t about being a mother, it was about choice. So this—” she waved her arm dramatically, wondering for a moment when exactly she’d started picking up his mannerisms. “This isn’t about Geralt at all, is it?” After a moment of contemplation, he carefully shook his head. “Then what is it about?” 

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he muttered at the tail end of a swig from his tankard. “I’ve just always been like this,” he said with a sweep of his hand, palm upturned, string-callused fingers twitching aimlessly. Her violet eyes bore into him expectantly, and he felt angry for a flicker of a moment — she was a witch, right? He should be able to just sit back while she delves into the darkest crevices of his psyche, let her root around and not have to struggle to put his life into context and language. “Can’t you just, y’know…” He tugged at his fingers, tilted his head.

“Read your mind?” she finished the question, scooting closer to him, and he felt the hair on his arms rise. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” He nodded, and she pressed her forehead against his, pulling him in close, enveloping him in the lilac and gooseberries he knew Geralt loved so much. He understood why; he felt inexplicably safe, even as the logical half of his brain urged him to pull back. This was all for show, and he knew that— she didn’t need to touch him to read him. Either way, he was grateful to not have to give language to the nameless, that she could just see.

See Jaskier at seventeen, screaming at Valdo from across the courtyard, "if you leave me I swear the fuck to melitile I'll kill myself," knowing he's made this exact threat verbatim so many times Valdo can't believe him, unable to recall what they were even arguing about anymore. When they break up, his mother tells him the first heartbreak always hurts the worst; it hurts all the same every time thereafter.

Jaskier at twenty, slicing thin lines into his thigh for what had to be the millionth time, running out of unmarred skin, witcher/tentative friend asleep somewhere beside him in the darkness. If asked, he’s not sure he’d have an excuse. Sometimes to feel something, sometimes to feel nothing. Either way, this uncertainty is what keeps his wrists clean.

Jaskier at twenty-three, wailing great, hiccuping sobs, shoulders rattling, blind beyond teary eyes. Geralt, gods bless him, doesn’t know what to do, stands arm’s-length away, regards him with uncertainty and pity. They’d fought about something that didn’t matter and he couldn’t remember, and that rage washed over him, red-hot, balled fists trembling at his side. “Get out! Gods, are you thick? Leave, Geralt; I fucking hate you.” But then Geralt listened, because Geralt didn’t play Jaskier’s games, and now there he was, sobbing, babbling, “don’t leave me, I’m sorry, I’ll be better, I can’t lose you, it’ll kill me, don’t go.” Geralt stays; they pretend nothing ever happened.

Jaskier at twenty-seven, at the ashes of his latest burnt bridge, just another failed relationship that feels altogether more like death than separation. Grieving it more like death, too; sobbing until he could do little more than stare at the ceiling and try to breathe, mourning a cemetery of mistakes and a lifetime of failure.

Jaskier at thirty-two, depression blanketing him with the fresh snow, the man he'd tangled up his entire identity in fucked off to the mountains for the winter while he sludged through classes, distracting himself from having to confront the fact that he doesn't recognize his own face in the mirror. Jaskier does exist in the spaces between Geralt, but, sometimes, that Jaskier is a husk.

Jaskier a few days ago, marching back to Oxenfurt because that's all he knows, doubtful Jaskier even exists anymore, the emptiness in his mind unbearable and somehow terminal, altogether certain he's been incompatible with life from the very moment he entered it and resolved to rectify nature's mistake himself. 

Jaskier who, his entire life, has felt everything, too much, all at once. Who's always been led by his heart — and not in the beautiful, Romantic way, but messy, tragic, and uniquely Jaskier. A man so utterly at the mercy of his own mind, drowning in feelings he doesn't have the language to name, his entire being defined not by who he is but what he does and who he loves. 

Jaskier, on a rooftop in Tretogor, itchy feet ready to fling him off the ledge. He'd told Valdo once, in the in-between hours not quite night or morning when everything seems strange and far away, that he knew how he was destined to die. Pressed on, even as Valdo chuckled and called him presumptive, “I'm going to kill myself.” Not today, or tomorrow, but inevitably. He said it not with the certainty of someone who's seen into the future but the cynical resignation of a man who knows no other escape. And Valdo punched his arm, told him not to talk like that, promised it would get easier one day. He hates Valdo now, not that he remembers why, and that day has yet to come.

She pulled back eventually— finally — and swept a shaky thumb over his cheek. He chewed on his lip, staring expectantly with hauntingly wide eyes. 

“Jaskier.” It was barely a whisper, uttered at the end of a sharp exhale, and when violet eyes met his they shone with an uncanny recognition. He wasn't sure what, precisely, she'd seen, but he knew whatever it was had been enough. He'd invited her to the bleakest corners of his mind, and now she regarded him like a lame horse. He ducked his head, but she caught him with a hand on his chin. “You know that's not how destiny works.”

“Hmm?” He wracked his brain to figure what she might be referring to, coming up empty-handed. He didn't have a big, grand destiny like she or Geralt did. He was just Jaskier the bard, Jaskier the one-night stand, Jaskier the disappointment. 

“It doesn't have to end like that. You have a choice,” she elaborated, still painfully vague, but he understood. 

“This isn't the first time, Yen, I—” 

“I know. I saw.” Right, she saw, probably everything, and he had the wherewithal to feel humiliated for it. 

“I've cheated it enough times. I can't outrun it forever.” It felt nice, at least, to let his walls down a little, stop playing the perpetual naive optimist. Almost a relief, even, a weight off his shoulders. 

“I know. But you're strong, Jask.” She moved her hand from his chin to the back of his head, guiding it to rest against her shoulder. “We have more in common than I thought, you know.” He laughed, thin and heady, but with a little more conviction this time, and pressed his face against her neck. 

“Is that your way of telling me you're fucked up, too?” He asked, and, despite the levity in his tone, he truly was curious. 

“Yes, bard,” she hummed, reaching out to sip at her tankard.

“You're not going to give me any more than that?” He fought off a yawn, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth. “I just told you everything.” 

“Maybe someday,” she replied, setting the mug back on the table. “But right now I think you could use some rest. We both could.” She slipped out of the booth and he let his head tilt back against the wall, mourning the absence of her warmth. 

She returned a few minutes later, room procured, and hiked the blanket back over his shoulders as he reached for his lute and followed after her. It was a nice enough room, two beds on opposite sides, a bath he had no intention of utilizing. Exhausted, he kicked off his boots, shrugged off his doublet, and dropped onto the bed. He let his mind wander, dozing as Yennefer readied herself for bed, eyelids heavy by the time she blew out the candles.

“You won't try again?” Yen asked from across the room after a while, barely a silhouette in the faint moonlight. Jaskier rolled over to face her, finding her staring distantly out the window.

“You, uh, you have to be more specific,” he muttered, tugging the blanket closer to his chin. It smelled of lilac and ale. 

“How am I supposed to make that more specific?” It came out sharp, like her usual tone with him, but he could still feel an uneasy twinge to her words. 

“I mean, I don't know.” He felt stupid for reasons beyond his grasp. “Not today, or tomorrow. But I can't promise never.” There was a long pause, and Jaskier barely breathed, wondering if he'd managed to upset her as sleep crept up on him. 

“Not today is enough,” she said finally, sounding almost far away, and his breath hitched in his throat.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, voice thick with impending sleep. “When are you leaving?” The me he omitted at the tail end rang in his mind, unspoken but understood, heavy in the nighttime silence. She was supposed to leave in the morning, so he could either move on or finish what he’d set out to do; he wasn’t sure he wanted her to uphold that promise anymore.

“Not today.” He exhaled slowly. Not today is enough. And maybe, just maybe, enough not today's would add up to never. 

[quirklessidiot]

Title: tough luck Pairing: GN! Reader x Suna Rintarou [college au] Genre: domestic fluff and my bad comedy (teeny tiny angst if u squint)

Synopsis: “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”               [this request of suna rintarou + fluff ]

Warnings: minor bad language but thats it Notes: 

omg i was finally able to write something fluffy yay! Hshdhdhd the mind- after all that angst. I hope yall enjoy this domestic college au suna hakhak where can i get one of these.

im posting three requests per week (its to help writers block and well, my english in general, they’ll be posted on random days) ill probably limit it to one when school starts though sike currently have four more requests to finish aye.

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Thesis papers be damned.

You might as well burn your group mates to the depths of hell for leaving you to dry these past few weeks. They weren’t even replying to your messages tonight and you were having a mock presentation first thing in the morning.

You aggressively started to mix more cake batter after frosting the cupcakes.

“Baby?” a low voice echoes throughout the quietness of the kitchen, your steely gaze snaps to find your half-awake boyfriend standing there in his sleepwear, his raven hair completely a mess, if it were a normal day, you’d coo and snuggle next to your good-looking man and annoy the fuck out of him but no, you just had to be in a bad mood, “It’s four am, what’s with all the sugar overload?”

“I’m celebrating the death of my sleep schedule and my sanity. Want a cupcake, baby?” a sarcastic grin makes its way to your lips and honestly, despite his deadpan features, Suna was very worried. He had been bugging you these past weeks to stop living in coffee and instant noodles so he decided to crash your place tonight to scold you, cook yourself a hot meal, and smother you to sleep with his hugs but it seemed like it didn’t work at all and you just violently wormed your way out of his grasp.

He slowly made his way to you, eyes half-lidded, and grabbed the rubber spatula from your hands and snuggled his head on your shoulders like a kitten, “Sleep, Y/N. It’s not worth to stress over those shits.” his voice was blank as usual but you knew he meant well.

“Well those shits will be my downfall tomorrow if they can’t answer the panel’s questions.” You spat as you cracked the eggs harshly on the batter and snatched back the rubber spatula from his hand, letting out a loud huff as you continued to mix aggressively.

“Y/N…”

Silence.

“Y/N…” 

“Fine.” you grumbled, “Just let me-”

“I’ll clean up.” Suna sighs, grabbing the spatula once again from your hands, “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up at seven am, just in time for your class, right?”

“But i can-”

“Y/N.” Suna narrows his eyes, determined to get the last say between you two.

“Ugh.” You grumbled, shoulders slouched, “six thirty-”

“No, seven am. Your class doesn’t start until nine. You need more rest. No take-backs.”

Giving your boyfriend one last stink-eye, you slowly trudged yourself to the bedroom and just flopped yourself towards the bed. Ah, how bad could this day even get?

You shouldn’t have jinxed it.

You were almost late since the professor had moved the presentation time to eight am, thank god your apartment was near your uni, your boyfriend literally watched you shove the most decent outfit you could find and throw yourself out the door in a hurry. In the midst of the presentation, your stomach started to grumble too since you weren’t able to grab a cracker or your usual bread to go before class.

Even worse, your stink of an eye group mates weren’t able to get their parts right.

You were downright ready to throttle them, thank god that this was just a mock defense.

Your mood doesn’t exactly brighten even after the defense, you sit there and look like those cartoons who had fumes coming out of their ears. After class ended, you decided to bring it up to your professor and he tells you it’s too late to take the names out.

Your mood dampens even more.

Exiting the classroom with a scrunched up feature, you stop to see a very familiar figure standing there holding a brown paper bag and a cup of steaming hot milk on his other.

“Mornin’” Suna quietly greets you as he gives you a light feathery kiss on your cheek.

You blink.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“The professor was absent, he had some staff meeting so I decided to get you a bento box and some milk. Try to avoid coffee for the time being.” Suna explains as he transfers the cup of milk to his other hand so that he could hold your hand, “Let’s have breakfast, Y/N. You don’t have class until another hour, right?”

Before you could protest, your boyfriend drags you to the field and under the shade of a large tree to eat the bento he bought.

Suna quietly listens as you rant on about how annoying and how much you want to throttle your good-for-nothing groupmates, occasionally wiping the little crumbs on the side of your cheek, “...You should take it easy.” Suna simply replies after you finish your rant, “You’ll get a cold if you keep this up.”

“My okaasan will definitely let me live in the cold if I fail a class.” You shiver at the mental image of your mother giving you a sermon. Suna just sighs as he fixes up your trash, he could never argue with you.

“Come,” he stands up and holds out his hand for you again, “I’ll walk you to your next class.”

The sun shines brightly yet your day doesn’t get any better, you had a pop quiz on one of your weakest subjects and you couldn’t even finish the readings since you were too preoccupied with your thesis and your groupmates.

You inwardly let out a groan as you made your way to the library, your phone rings and your brows contort in confusion at the name of your boyfriend. “Hello?”

“How’s class?”

“You’re such a miracle worker.” You sighed, “You always know when to call.”

“That bad?”

“Everything just sucks, ah life feel so shitty these days-” You confessed, scratching your head in annoyance.

“Hey.” He cuts you off, voice dead serious, “It’s just a bad day, Y/N. Don’t worry, we all have these days. How many classes do you still have?”

“Just two.” you huffed out, completely frustrated by how bad your day was going.

“Take a deep breath and drink some water, alright? I’ll see you after class, let's walk home and order some takeout then sleep early alright? My class ends the same time as you today.”

“B-But…” You stop protesting, realizing that Suna would shut down the idea. Saying goodbye to your boyfriend, you take in a deep breath and do as he instructed. 

Thankfully nothing major happens on the next subject and as you were about to proceed to your last class, Suna texts you that he has some milk bread on your locker and your favorite banana milk. A small smile made its way to your lips, one more subject and this wretched day was over then you’ll get to snuggle next to your boyfriend.

Again, you shouldn’t have jinxed it.

Someone had accidentally spilled the banana milk you were drinking all over your white shirt along with his cup of mocha drink (which thank god was cold because if it wasn’t, you’d be suffering a burn)

You had to sit through the whole class with the sticky feeling on your chest and that ugly slosh, you really should’ve brought a jacket today.

“Hey baby- jesus christ, Y/N what happened?”

It’s quite hard to gouge a reaction from your boyfriend most of the times but you can’t believe that something as easy as the big ugly slosh of mocha and banana milk stain on your plain white shirt would actually shock him.

You pressed your lip into a tight line, pissed, as you open your arms, “This,” you exclaimed, “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”

Suna shakes his head at your antic and just takes his sports jacket to place it on your figure, he’s awfully reminded of a Pomeranian when you’re angry but he’d never say that out loud. 

Instead he softly grabs your hand and tugs it lightly, your quiet on your way home. He notices that maybe the fatigue is slowly sinking in, so the minute you guys enter your apartment, he urges you to change into your pajamas while he orders take out.

After a quick bite, you lay on top of him and snuggle on his neck, humming an unfamiliar tune as you draw circles on his chest, “Thanks.”

“Hm?’

“For being there.” You hummed, “I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you weren’t my boyfriend. So yeah, thanks...”

Suna feels a small smile make its way to his lips, he doesn’t respond, instead he just kisses your head and lets you lay on his arms, “Hey Y/N…” He paused and when he notices that you’re soundly asleep on his arms, his smile turns wider. i love you, he thinks randomly as he watches you sleep, “Goodnight.” he whispers instead out loud, kissing your forehead again and hugging you into his arms.