#nobody even look at me for at least an hour or I'm going to combust into anxiety thank u

[metal-mouse]

Not the One to Worship, Not the One to Blame

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x gn!Slytherin MC (no y/n used)

themes: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: swearing, trauma, panic attacks, depression, self-isolating

summary: 1.4k word vomit. The battle against Ranrok is over. You are in your sixth year, and now have to deal with the aftermath that is emotion and nightmarish memories. Despite having kept Sebastian Sallow's secret, you have no interest in his friendship. However, he certainly makes a good scapegoat for all of your pain.

note: This is the first piece of writing I have posted publicly in over 10 years. It is going to be rough, as I am very out of practice. I never expected to write anything to post ever again, but I've had such a massive streak of inspiration I figured I'd put myself out there. Be gentle with me because I'm a big baby but be honest - I'm getting better at receiving feedback. I also don’t edit anything ever, so there’s probably plenty of bad grammar/confusing sentence structure/spelling errors. 

You stood alone at the top of the astronomy tower alone, hugging yourself tightly against the chilled air as you watched the sun set. The silence was welcome compared to the chaos of the Great Hall over supper. With hundreds of students meeting together at the same time, the sound of countless conversations overwhelmed you far too easily. You had eaten quickly and excused yourself from the company of Ominis, ignoring the concerned look on his face. You knew he worried, but he also knew enough to respect when you needed your space. It was one of your favourite things about him. 

The world around you was washed in a gentle golden glow that you desperately wanted to enjoy. The colours of the sky were beautiful, but no emotions stirred inside of you. You remained numb and empty. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d smiled. You wished you could feel something other than this awful cycle of misery, anger, fear, and hollowness. You wished that people would leave the past in the past. Every time a classmate brought up Ranrok’s defeat at your hands you felt like you were going to be sick. Your chest would tighten, and a clammy feeling would cling to the back of your neck as the rest of your body felt smothered by flames and smoke. You had been furious with Professor Black for being the one to share your involvement in the battle and causing this endless stream of praise and questions. All you wanted was to forget. 

Even worse than thinking about Ranrok was seeing Sebastian in the halls, in your classes, in your common room. You may have spared him from expulsion and imprisonment, but you still hadn’t found it in yourself to forgive him. Perhaps the blame you placed on him was unfair, perhaps he was an easy scapegoat for your pain. He had, afterall, caused a great amount of that pain. Yet, you weren’t any better than he was. Every night you dreamed of flashes of green and how the light left Victor Rookwood’s blue eyes… Dozens of men and countless goblins lay dead at your hand, and people actually celebrated you for this. In the beginning, you had been intrigued by the power you held. You had been eager to learn it and grow it. You had liked having a unique power that put you above others. Now, you wanted nothing more than to turn back time. You wished you’d never found out about this magic. You wished that none of this had ever happened. 

You were deep enough in your spiraling thoughts that you hadn’t noticed your unwelcome company until a warm cloak was placed over your shoulders. You flinched, immediately in attack mode as you looked at your intruder. Sebastian Sallow didn’t look at you. Instead, he put his hands on the railing and leaned out to see the world below. 

“I’ll go away if you want me to.” He said, breaking the tense silence. You watched him apprehensively, without saying a word. Sebastian took that as permission to remain in your presence. 

“What do you want?” You asked. 

“I may not be your favourite person right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. You’re not alright.” Sebastian looked over at you. You scowled at the way he jumped straight to the point. The empty feeling inside of you was slowly replaced with anger. Not alright? What fucking gave it away? Why the hell was Sebastian the first person to bring it up besides Ominis - who had been there when you started to truly fall apart? 

“I’m fine.” You said. 

“I haven’t seen you smile since the year started - it’s now February. Not at Ominis. Not when you’re brushing Puffskeins with Poppy. You don’t even smile when Weasley makes his stupid jokes.” Sebastian stood and took a step towards you. It felt like his eyes were burning into your face. All you wanted was for him to look at anything but you. How dare he talk to you about this. Talk to you about your happiness - which he fucking stole from you. Why was he even paying attention in the first place? You adjusted his cloak around you, hating how warm it was and how it smelled like Sebastian. 

“If I haven’t smiled, it’s your fault.” A low blow. Sebastian’s nostrils flared and hurt filled his eyes, but he tilted his head as if to encourage you to carry on. You didn’t. 

“The last time I checked, you were the one acting so miserable. It’s you who doesn’t bother to even try anymore.” 

“I don’t have to try anymore. I’m a hero, Sebastian, everyone will love me all the same. Who cares if I’m miserable?” you spat out, “Can’t you see it? I don’t get to have emotions! Only people have feelings. I’m merely a tool to be used - a weapon if you will - whenever someone needs to use me. It makes it so much easier for everyone to forget what happens under the surface of battle. To forget the atrocities I’ve committed. The horrors I’ve seen. You wouldn’t understand it.” Sebastian’s eyes were wide as he stared at you. 

“Is that truly what you think? That I don’t understand? You’re not the only one who went through hell last year. I was right there the entire time. I helped you fight trolls, goblins, spiders, poachers, must I go on? 

I saw the look on your face when you came back from killing Victor Rookwood, and I knew before anyone else did what had happened. Want to know how? Because I know how it feels to fucking take someone’s life.” Sebastian bellowed, making you take a step backwards. You glanced towards the stairwell, hoping nobody was nearby to eavesdrop. 

He had been there. Sebastian had known from the beginning what you were going through, and he had helped - even if it put his life in danger. His true motives may have ultimately lain elsewhere, but you knew he didn’t want to see any more people harmed at Ranrok’s hands. Guilt pushed its way through your unjustified anger. He was certainly making it difficult to blame him for more than what he deserved. 

“Just leave me alone, Sebastian.” You whispered. He shook his head, his lips pressed in a firm line. His brown eyes were unusually glassy, almost as if he was trying to hold back tears.

“Whether you like it or not, I understand.” He was still shaking his head, stray tears indeed spilling from his eyes. Sebastian’s lips fell into a frown and quivered a little. It was an ugly face, he was not a pretty crier. Something in this insignificant flaw of his made you pause. Seeing him feel so strongly about how you felt… To show these emotions to you, this clearly meant a lot to him. You meant a lot to him. You approached him carefully, reaching up tentatively and wiped away an errant tear. 

“I know, Sebastian. I… I don’t blame you for this. None of it.” You looked down at your feet, your hand still on his cheek. 

“And I think you’re far more than a weapon. You don’t have to be the hero with me, you can be just you. I just want to see you smile.” Sebastian very carefully took your hand in his. You looked back up to his face, and you knew he meant it. 

“Can we try again?” You asked. He exhaled deeply, you could see the thoughts racing in his mind. 

“I think something could be arranged.” Ominis Gaunt’s voice made both of you jump. He stood at the top of the stairs, fidgeting with his wand. Sebastian’s hand squeezed yours tightly. Ominis walked towards where you stood, his cheeks flushed and an uncertain look on his face. Ominis held out his hand for Sebastian, who dropped yours instantly and grasped it. They shook hands firmly, and then Sebastian pulled Ominis in for a hug. 

“Boundaries! Sebastian! I will be placing firm boundaries!” Ominis protested, but his arms wrapped around his friend all the same. You let out a weak laugh that was more of a huff full of emotion. You didn’t know fully what this meant, or how anything would play out, but you knew that this would be easier with Sebastian and Ominis on your team. On each other’s team. Life was either going to get better from here, or worse, but you supposed it could be bearable if you lived it with people you cared about. You felt awful for targeting Sebastian like that. He hadn’t deserved all your hatred. Some anger and resentment, sure, but not all of it. As Ominis complained about the cold and coaxed you both back inside, you silently resolved to make it up to Sebastian. You could support him, just as he supported you.

[lit-in-thy-heart]

I'm so excited you've jouned in!!! 💕

You owe Merwaine some happiness after your VERY angsty episode analyses so I would love those two and Sleepy hug please!! 😍

@little-ligi i hope this makes up for the angst!!! thank you for sending a prompt and have merlin and gwaine falling asleep together when with the knights and arthur on a trip thing (unspecified) between s4 and s5 💕

once again, under the cut because this is the longest one yet...

Rearranging his cloak so it provided greater coverage from the brisk wind, Gwaine glanced over at the group who were gradually drifting off amongst the fallen foliage. Despite the undiluted thoughts that inevitably streamed through his head when on watch, Gwaine relished the uninterrupted opportunity to softly observe Merlin without having the eyes of the other knights on him. If he had an apple for every time one of them – usually Percival or Arthur, despite Elyan’s quiet requests for them to shut up – had called him out for supposedly undressing Merlin with his eyes, he would certainly have a bushel of them by now. Granted, Gwaine sometimes did have the habit of mentally undressing Merlin with his eyes when he looked at him, but more often than not the knight was simply gazing in wonder at how such a beautiful being had chosen to devote his life to Gwaine of all people.

Merlin had been out of his sight for the past couple of hours, having accompanied Elyan to retrieve firewood, but Gwaine knew that they were both exchanging new spells that they’d learnt over the past few weeks. Elyan had told Gwaine about his magic before Gwaine had even had his suspicions about Merlin confirmed. Or, rather, Gwaine had stumbled in on Elyan, when the call of nature had echoed in his head on the night they had first met, and had witnessed him throwing all five of Gwaine’s knives without touching a single one. Gwaine had been more bothered by the fact that he hadn’t even noticed that his knives were missing than by the fact that Elyan was a sorcerer. And then, several weeks later, after Merlin had confessed to Gwaine on the night they had found themselves in bed together after an evening in the tavern, Gwaine had told both Elyan and Merlin to meet him in the Darkling Woods, greeted them with the statement that they both had magic, and had left them to it. Although he forced his unwavering support onto Merlin at every given opportunity, Gwaine knew the value of having someone close who knew precisely the struggles being faced, and he was grateful that Merlin had that in Elyan, and vice versa.

With a smile, Gwaine’s gaze slid over to Merlin, cocooned in a blanket and laughing at some remark that Elyan had sleepily murmured, and he settled himself against a tree trunk, moving his eyes back to the space in front of him as he withdrew his sword and positioned it across torso, the point of the blade hovering dangerously close to his neck. It was probably best that he was keeping watch alone, so he wouldn’t get distracted by talking to someone – but it also meant that there was nobody to check him when his attention slid, as it always did, to Merlin. He squinted up at the sky, seeking out the moon. At least he wasn’t expected to keep watch all night. Not that there was much need. Perhaps it was somewhat of an invincibility complex but, ever since donning the cloak bearing Camelot’s emblem, Gwaine had felt untouchable. Almost. The cloak hadn’t made Lancelot untouchable. Setting his jaw, Gwaine took a deep breath and focused on the lazy wave of the leaves opposite, on the stars splattered across the deep canvas of the sky like a bloodstain, on the soft melody of the wind.

‘Come on, now, Gwaine, you know full well how hot you look when you hold a sword like that.’

Perhaps Gwaine, who had not noticed Merlin – Merlin, of all people – approach, had not been the best choice for watch. He looked up with the smile that always graced his lips whenever the warlock was near, eyes dropping with Merlin’s body as he settled himself next to him. ‘I am by no means opposed to making out right here, right now.’

To satiate his desire, Merlin scattered a trail of kisses along his hairline. ‘I don’t think the others would appreciate it.’

‘Mm, you’re probably right there,’ Gwaine murmured, his fingers tracing Merlin’s face. ‘And you should sleep.’

‘I’m okay.’

Gwaine’s hands found the shadowed purple beneath Merlin’s eyes and he fixed him with a look. ‘I know that you haven’t slept properly for the past two weeks. I can see it written all over your face.’

Scowling, Merlin pushed his hand away. ‘Well that’s rude.’

‘But not a lie.’

Expression softening, Merlin wrapped the blanket tighter around his body.‘That’s because you’ve been on night patrol for the past two weeks and haven’t slept next to me.’

‘I don’t enjoy it.’

‘No, but at least you get to talk to Elyan. I’m left alone with the ceiling and my thoughts, and you know how much I hate that.’ Realising how he sounded, Merlin leaned closer into Gwaine. ‘I’m not trying to guilt-trip you. I know full well there’s nothing you can do about it.’

Just as Merlin knew that, Gwaine knew full well that he shouldn’t do what his arm had already started to do but, noticing Merlin’s poorly-concealed shivers, he set down his sword and drew Merlin in so the warlock was resting his head in Gwaine’s chest. Then, kissing the top of his head, Gwaine pushed him away as swiftly as he’d pulled him in. ‘Go to bed, love. If you fall asleep here then your neck will not be thanking you in the morning.’

Looking up, Merlin held his gaze for several moments. With a sigh, he lifted his head and kissed Gwaine on the mouth before reluctantly standing and stumbling back to the makeshift camp. Gwaine watched as he settled himself at a slight distance from the other knights and Arthur, his back turned. The flickering embers cast subtle shadows across Merlin’s back and Gwaine’s gaze remained turned towards him for several moments more before he forced his eyes to travel away from the warlock’s form. Gwaine didn’t need to see it to know how it moulded to his palms when they were alone.

When around other people, Merlin always seemed to skirt around Gwaine, always leaving at least several inches between their bodies, as if afraid of causing Gwaine to shatter as a mirage if he made even the slightest contact with his skin. Gwaine had started wearing gloves more frequently in the hopes that Merlin would be more liberal in brushing against him then, but it had all been to no avail. Then Gwaine had continued to wear gloves anyway, just so that his bare hands wouldn’t have the nerves numbed by grazing surfaces before they reached out for Merlin’s skin. The result was a warm tingle that, to some, would be more of a scald, but Gwaine savoured every moment that his skin was set alight by Merlin. Having a particular skill with fire spells also helped him not feel the agony of burning so much, too.

When they were alone, though, Merlin was the one to remove Gwaine’s gloves and, every time his fingers skimmed the bones in Gwaine’s hand, the knight had to focus so as not to release skittering flames in Merlin’s direction. There seemed to be a ritual with Merlin when they were alone. The warlock would gently draw the gloves from Gwaine’s skin, toss them to one side, and then dedicate a substantial amount of time to tracing the marks on the knight’s hands, no matter how many times his fingers had already followed the cellular paths that day.

First, he always looked for new scalds or burns, disregarding Gwaine’s protests that they didn’t hurt in the same way that their ancestors had when he had first started learning magic, skimming his fingers over the marks as if the touch formed a mental note to treat them at a later date. After assessing the damage, Merlin’s lips always trailed behind his touch, silently reassuring each of Gwaine’s imperfections that they were so wonderfully loved and successfully sending shivers up Gwaine’s spine. Though those shivers always were abruptly severed when Merlin’s touch made its way to the thick scar just below the fold of skin between his right thumb and forefinger. Merlin had never once pushed him for more information about his childhood amongst bandits, but there was always a part of Gwaine that worried Merlin would one day get sick of the sight of the small branded letter, not quite concealed by the path the knife had taken so long ago, and would abandon him to the abyss he had been lost in before meeting the warlock.

But that hadn’t happened yet.

After studying Gwaine’s hands, Merlin then moved to stripping him of his knighthood and it was a death that Gwaine would gladly watch again and again if it was at Merlin’s hands. The chainmail was cast aside, the cloak thrown over a chair, and the sword noisily skimmed the floor until Gwaine was stood in only a shirt and his trousers, equal to Merlin. The only armour Gwaine had ever wanted covering him, since that day at the tavern, was Merlin’s hands. Arthur hadn’t really given him an opportunity to turn down the knighthood and, even if he had, there was always the possibility – in Gwaine’s mind, at least – that Arthur would have been offended enough to maintain his banishment, and then Gwaine never would have seen Merlin again. Being a knight did have its advantages, though: Gwaine never went hungry, nor did he have to sleep with one eye open, and he had been getting into fewer and fewer brawls over the years. Though that last one was perceived as more of an advantage in Leon’s eyes, who had always been the one to drag him out of any frays and then let him cool off in the cells on the odd occasion. Even when that had happened, though, Merlin had always slipped in and spent the night with Gwaine, heating his body up to unnatural temperatures to keep Gwaine warm. The first few times that had happened, Gwaine had been terrified that Merlin would spontaneously combust, but Merlin had frequently assured him that such a trick was not possible.

So they would stand there, facing one another in silence, Gwaine’s materialistic armour strewn across the room, and then Gwaine would take Merlin gently in his hands, tracing segments of the form he knew so well, and then their souls would fuse together with their lips.

 

When the stars had shifted substantially, Gwaine hauled himself from his position and shook out his legs in the vain attempt to rid himself of the cramp in his limbs, slowly advancing towards Leon’s form. He gently prodded him awake, instinctively lunging backwards as the reflexive swipe came from the blankets, and held out his arms to receive said blankets when a thickened voice quietly called out his name. 

Turning around, Gwaine could just make out Merlin’s hands stretching out in a half-hearted wave in the heavy darkness and, telling Leon to forget about the blankets, picked his way through the sleeping knights, guided by the dropping syllables of his name. By the time he reached Merlin, the warlock’s hands had fallen to the ground and, smiling fondly, Gwaine hastily stripped down to his gambeson and slid into the nest Merlin had made.

There were significantly more blankets than Merlin should have had – not that Gwaine was complaining – and Merlin drowsily pushed several layers towards him, turning around to face Gwaine. His eyes flickered in the darkness as his hand fell against Gwaine’s chest and, from the point where Merlin touched him, the knight could feel a comforting heat pushing into him like a blade. Gwaine realised he probably should have tied back his hair so Merlin didn’t accidentally try to eat it in his sleep, but he was too comfortable to do that. With a smile, Gwaine encircled the warlock with his arms and rested his mouth against Merlin’s forehead as his eyes closed.

‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you, too,’ Merlin murmured.

Gwaine frowned, one eye cracking open. ‘You were asleep. You couldn’t have missed me.’

There was a pause. ‘You know I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I couldn’t sleep properly without you next to me, right?’

‘I did not.’ Gwaine waited until he felt five of Merlin’s exhalations drape themselves around his throat before speaking again. ‘Whatever did you do before I came into your life?’

‘Had a decent night’s sleep, because I wasn’t aware of your existence and consequently didn’t have to constantly worry about preserving it.’ Merlin shifted against him, hands crawling under Gwaine’s shirt and settling themselves on his stomach. ‘It’s so strange to think that we didn’t even know that the other existed. That we had no idea that one day we would be right here, in this moment.’

Merlin, when tired, always became philosophical. And usually when Gwaine was tired he couldn’t make head or tail of what his significant other was saying, but perhaps the cool night air had cleared his head more than ale usually did. ‘I think I prefer it that way,’ Gwaine murmured. ‘If we’d known that the other was out there, then I think we would have spent all our lives searching. We would have pinned our entire existence on the other person and that’s...That just doesn’t feel right. Not that I’m saying I don’t love you.’

‘No, no, I know...I know what you mean,’ yawned Merlin, pushing his head into Gwaine’s chest.

Tightening his arms around Merlin, Gwaine listened to the rhythm of the warlock’s breathing pattern, trying to match his own to it, and gently kissed the top of his head. There was a slight mumble, and something that might have resembled an ‘I love you’ and Gwaine murmured it back, just in case. It had been too long since the two of them had drifted off together, wrapped in one another’s beings, and Gwaine would forever bind himself to the soft form that was quite literally touching his heart.

[survivorredemptionislands]

Ep 4 Confessionals Pt 1 | "Time to Get Friendly" - Jabari

so. i did not want to be on a team w jinx before merge bc i worry about us being targets. i didnt want to be on a team w jabari At All bc i figured she will target me. the only good thing about this swap is i have zoe and mj still but. im dead inside

i was fine again for like 5 minutes but now my dms are full and i am going to combust pls send help except dont bc i dont want to TALK TO ANYBODY

God damn the last 24 hours have been wild so here I am finally ready to write about it. The 5th Season Team: Okay I absolutely ADORE this twist. 16 people felt like a really small cast so I'm glad we get to play with even more people! It makes it feel like a new game almost, like we're starting over. I'm not sure how much past teams will impact things, especially since we have so many of the ghost team on our new team. At least they're all awesome! The Swap: Loving it. Love everyone. But not Isaiah- where even are they?? Like please at least say hi, it's been over 12 hours since the swap? Can we trade Timmy back into the game. Maybe Isaiah will show up and be super active, but I doubt that based off of what was said at pirate council last night. I really love getting to talk with everyone else though, I hope we can all work together and be a pretty decided group!

Swap thots. On the surface, this looks not great. A solo ghoster with everyone else together? No bueno. BUT... I don't think it's as bad as it looks, really. This is an opportunity for me to forge connections that other ghosters won't have. It's also an opportunity for me to offer that bridge to other players in the game if they'll work with me. And, without even having gone down that road yet, I don't seem to be hurting for people who want to work with me on the surface (though, granted, it's easy to see what you want to see in these.) I think Matt and Shane would work with me fairly easily. I think Asya and MJ could work with me. I think Zoe would work with me if the situation arose. I think I need to put some work into Jabari and Adam to get a better read. And losing Jinx sucked... I hope she's doing okay with whatever in life's got her struggling to juggle it all. This challenge is... well, challenging. Coming in as a fresh face, I'm not looking to give people a reason to look at me sideways. And that means continuing the 'lay low' vibes I've been working with, which means letting someone else take reins on this video. But... nobody is taking them. And now we've spent a whole day not working on it, and most of us work tomorrow. So we're likely going to run out of time and not do well, but y'know what? We're probably going to deserve it. Besides, I wouldn't hate going to Council. I think I've done enough to show myself to be helpful, friendly and willing to chip in wherever needed. If they're gunning for me specifically to weaken Ghost Team, there's not much I can do about that and I'd rather they take me out sooner than later so I'm not giving my all to a team that doesn't want me. On the other hand, if I'm reading this right and I am in a few people's plans... then this is a great opportunity to build those bonds before a merge. Anyway, for now I've added to the soundtrack and I've provided input where asked. Piracy is kind of my domain — I've been obsessed with them since the Monkey Island games came out when I was a kid — so I've got ideas. Once we lock in a concept for the video and/or the graphics I'll absolutely be chiming in with more ideas. But I'm going to be the person passing the ball back, not the one making the first throw.

Well these results were the most depressing I have ever seen. I guess the other judges didn't get it but honestly I think I spent all my time doing it by myself without MJ lending a hand on it. For the most part I think I should be in good hands since I was the only one in the Album cover. As for what others might think thats up to discussion now, time to get friendly

I had not a single clue what was happening this challenge

We won the creative challenge Exclamation point ! No pirate council for me ! Insert more exclamation points . I also offered a final two deal to Linden. Linden is such an icon such good vibes and energy Also I wanna slap someone with the random fish we got because that sounds fun . But I shall wait . That’s it that’s my confessional . No strikes for me :) Xoxo Jessie

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

Characters © Frederator/Cartoon Network and so forth. Story ©2020 to me! All rights reserved.

This little fic was commissioned by MorbidHero. Enjoy! I'm not a superfan but I hope I still did the fandom justice, more or less. Even though there are no bacon pancakes or appearances from Billy.

Orono Or DIE.

The sign was unique enough to attract attention. That was probably the idea. Still, the girl with the long, black hair and the red-and-blue striped sweater seemed a little surprised when a car pulled over on the long, lonely stretch of Highway 95. Her eyes narrowed to slits as headlights attempted to blast the pupils wide, and she shadowed them with a pale hand.

"Hello!" cried a voice that sounded like a music box. "Are you in need of aid?"

"Uhhhh…" The squinting eyes shifted. "There a person in there?"

"Of course! I am a person! Please, it's too cold to be out here alone!"

The stranger approached the passenger window, bending down to look inside. By the light of the dash screen, she saw a rosy complexion and bright pink hair to match. The girl's round face held the sweetest, most angelic smile she had ever seen.

"I… whoa."

"Yes?"

"N-nothing. You're really gonna give me a lift? I could be an axe murderer."

The driver's eyebrows raised. "Are you an axe murderer?"

"Sorta." She opened her black guitar case, covered in stickers from all manner of bands and destinations, to display a red bass that actually was shaped like an axe, a snarky half-smile displaying some prominent canines. "I slay on this thing alllll the time."

"Oooh! A wandering minstrel! Prithee, do not tarry thither, but let us away in mine chariot!"

"I… huh?"

Cheeks turning a bit rosier, she whispered, "Just get in the car."

With her bass, cardboard sign, and knapsack stashed in the cramped back seat, the two pulled away from the shoulder and back onto the near-deserted highway. There reigned silence for a moment or two until the driver decided to attempt pleasant conversation.

"What's your name, minstrel?"

"Not Minstrel. Marcy. Or Marce, Marceline, Nightmarce… Elvira, if you're everybody in my high school."

"That sounds very unkind, and I am not from your high school so I will not do that." She smiled over at her. "I'm Bonnibel, or Bonnie."

"Cool. This, uh… this car seems weird."

"Oh!" she piped up animatedly. "It is a hybrid, but I have converted the combustion engine to run on used peanut oil."

"Is that why I have a craving for a PB&J out of nowhere?!"

Bonnie laughed, and Marcy wore a smile of her own. That was bizarre; why would she smile at some stranger who just picked her up to give her a lift? "Perhaps! It is also why I will eventually have to visit a Five Guys restaurant to refuel."

Chuckling quietly, Marcy fought down a groan as she struggled out of her black leather boots and propped her feet up on the dash. "Sorry, but I've been walking for hours. Nobody else would pick me up, except for this creepy trucker who would probably have murdered me. With my own axe."

"It is alright! I can't blame you, that sounds like a terrible day. How did you end up out here all by yourself? With no car?"

"Ash, ugh."

"Gesundheit?"

Rolling her eyes, Marcy explained, "No, Ash is my ex. Also the lead guitarist of our band, Vampire Queen. But like, he's been impossible since we broke up, and he threw his guitar at my head during our last show. I told him I wasn't riding in the van with him anymore and they took off without me. Jerkfaces."

Bonnie's expression was completely thunderstruck. She reached over to pat Marceline's thigh. "That is just unacceptable, you could have been hurt!"

"Uh… yeah?" She thought that was obvious. And the sudden physical contact made her squirm.

"No, I mean you should remove him from the band. He is clearly dangerous and you have every right to feel safe on the stage."

"Oh. Well… it's not that easy. He writes half our songs, and he's no great singer but he does know all the guitar parts already. But… I guess he's more replaceable than Fionna or Jake."

"You should send him to prison. Or castrate him," she added, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Which is what finally made Marceline realize neither of her hands were on the wheel. She sat up quick and shouted, "HEY, we're gonna crash! Are you insane?!"

"Hm?" Glancing ahead, she calmly stated, "No we aren't, we're driving perfectly straight. And there are no other cars."

"Well… yeah, but…" She watched their course correct very slightly, still glancing at Bonnie's hands. "Oh, is this one of those self-driving things?"

"Yes! Oh, I see; you thought I was neglecting the wheel." The pink-haired oddity giggled as if Marcy were the weird one.

"Do you just pick up random strangers and scare them to death? Messed up hobby, girl. I can respect it though."

At that, Bonnie's smile lessened as she stared ahead again. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget that not everyone has access to the technology I do. I didn't mean to cause you any undue strife."

"Not everybody swallows a dictionary for breakfast, either." When that wiped the smile away entirely, the rocker turned to look out the passenger window as she tightened her arms around her stomach. "Nah… I'm sorry, I'm a bitch."

The car was silent for a few seconds. "You aren't. I just don't spend a lot of time with other people. When I do, they tell me I am awkward."

"Yeah? Agoraphobic or something?" She paused. "Yeah, I know some big words, too."

"I never said you didn't. But no, that isn't the problem. I'm a workaholic. Even when I'm not in my lab, I'm still focused on inventing or revising previous inventions. I like speaking with people, but there never seems to be any time…"

"Dude, nerdslut. Got it."

"WHAT?!"

The outburst was harsher than Marce expected. "Sorry," she muttered, head ducking lower. "I didn't-"

"I'm not a slut! I'm…" Her cheeks began to glow. "I've never even been on a date."

"I was kidding, man. I didn't really mean…" Her fingers ran through her fringe. "Look, you told me you don't get out much. So I'll do my best not to tease you like I normally would, but no promises. I'm pretty edgy." She even threw up devil horns to add to the effect.

"You're teasing. Yes, I understand." The bubbly girl sighed and relaxed, smiling again. Apparently, it was that easy.

"What do you do for a living, anyway? All the inventing…"

"Oh! Have you heard of PeebleCo?"

A brief pause. "If I say 'no', does that mean I'm dumb?"

"It's alright. I am the president and CEO. Though the board members make most of the day-to-day decisions, they consult with me before making any large changes. And I am also the head of the R&D department."

"Whoa. And you're what, like, eighteen?"

"Nineteen."

"Excuse me," she snickered. "But yeah, that's pretty young to have your whole future figured out. I'm still kind of drifting through life in the shadows."

Bonnie shrugged as she pulled off the highway. "It is okay. I know I am strange, and that most people have to take some time to find their true destiny."

"Where… are we going?"

"To this hotel! I have been driving all day."

"Oh. Guess this is where I get off, then."

"It is if you want. Or you are welcome to share my hotel room and I will continue to ferry you to your destination in the morning."

Marceline raised an eyebrow as she watched Bonnie smoothly guide the car into a parking spot — having to use her hands this time, of course. "Are you totally insane, or just the nicest person on the planet?"

"Does it have to be one or the other?" she asked with a huge grin. And yet again, Marcy found she was grinning back.

                                                      ~ o ~

Once they had brought their bags inside, the hitchhiker plopped herself on the bed and kicked off her boots again. Then she started tuning her bass. Bonnie started unpacking her little pink rolling suitcase immediately, though she cast a casual glance over at her guest now and then.

"What? Am I bugging you?"

"Not at all. I have just never seen someone play a guitar in person before."

"Never?!" When the inventor shook her head, Marceline chuckled softly. "Damn, you really don't ever crawl out from under that rock to see what the sun looks like. Not that I do, either."

"It's because I'm working," she protested with a slight pout. "Not because I don't want to meet people. I love people!"

"Oh yeah, me too. They're delicious."

Bonnie cackled as she plugged her BMO's charger into the wall. At least she got that joke. "You're so funny and cool! I wish I was like you."

"No you don't, trust me. I'm kind of a cunt."

"Are you? Well, I think that's still preferable to being boring. I might have an important job but as a person, I am… vanilla pudding."

"Yeah? Well I mean, vanilla pudding can be pretty good. Add a little red food coloring to make people think you're eating ketchup? I like red things, they look more badass."

"Vanilla is not interesting," she sighed as she seated herself on the other twin bed, pulling off her Uggs. Marceline tried not to pay too much attention to how her white leggings hugged her shapely calves and thighs. "Being a vanilla pudding when there are so many chocolate puddings around me… that is why I focus on my work."

The hitchhiker thought that over as she played a couple of notes, a few chords she used in their sets. The hook from "Smoke On The Water", then the bassline from "The Chain".

"I think you're cool, Bonbon."

"You do?" she asked in pure shock. Marcy looked up — and immediately averted her eyes when she saw her company was wearing only her underwear.

"WHOA, hey, warn a girl or something!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she hissed, arms trying to hide parts of her body pointlessly. "The other girls in gym class never cared!"

Pale cheeks flooding with color, the rocker cleared her throat and studied the carpet, watching pale pink toes curl nervously into the fibers. "Gym, yeah. Um… I'm sorry, that was stupid. Me flipping out. If you're cool with stripping down in front of me, like… it's your hotel room…"

"No, you are right, it was my mistake. We have only just met today. And I am decent." When Marceline chanced another glance, she saw a long pink nightgown covering Bonnie from neck to ankle. She was also wearing an embarrassed little smile that was more adorable than it had any right to be.

"You're definitely decent."

"Jingo-jango!"

"Gesundheit?" she re-joked with a slight smirk.

"Free candy!" She practically pounced on the little mint laying on her pillow, unwrapping it and devouring it in mere seconds. "Mmmmhhh… oh, divine!"

The moans of pleasure definitely made Marcy have to clear her throat again. Desire was stirring within her in a way that blindsided her; Bonnie was a girl. One she had met literally that day! Was she losing it?! Sure, she had always known she liked girls as much as boys, but she had never really been serious about one.

"Marcy?"

"SHIT!" she gasped out when she saw those beautiful features only a couple of inches away from her own. It seemed Bonnie's concern had brought her over to the other bed. "I… what? I'm fine, you can go back to getting ready for bed or whatever."

"You are flushed. What if you have a fever, from being out in the cold too long?"

Then the bouncy inventor touched their foreheads together, to check her temperature. Marceline knew that was the reason… yet she still felt her heart speed up, her sweat glands stirring to life.

But she was no shrinking violet. Anti-social, sure, and inexperienced hitting on girls versus guys. But she figured she might as well give it a shot and see what happened.

"You give me fever," she began to sing in a smoky voice. Bonnie's concerned eyes shot wide. "Fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight."

A tiny whispered "What?" fell from small pink lips. And not even the oblivious shut-in could miss the rock star's meaning. "Me?"

After they held each other's gaze for a few more seconds, Marceline burst out with a chuckle and looked away, strumming her bass. "Couldn't resist. You're such a cute little marshmallow, it's too easy."

And that was that. Or so she thought. After she had played a few more notes and glanced up again, expecting that Bonnie would have rushed off to the bathroom by now, she saw she was being studied carefully.

"Sorry. Told you I'm a bitch."

"Why are you sorry? If you meant it… which you did…"

"Who says I did?" she grunted. "Hey-"

"I do," Bonnie told her in even tones as she finished pulling the guitar strap from around Marceline's neck. How could this awkward bean be so bold all of a sudden?! "You are blushing like I am blushing. That means you meant it, doesn't it?"

"No. It means… maybe I was out in the cold too long. Whatever."

Sighing like a patient teacher facing an obstinate student, Bonnie leaned over and took her lips gently. And poor Marcy felt her brain short-circuiting. This girl was going for it! How?! This girl?! Even more shameful was that it took three or four seconds for her to pull back from the kiss, panting and clutching at the bedspread.

"WHAT THE WHAT?!"

"Oh wow," Bonnibel whispered, reaching up to touch her own bottom lip with delicate fingers. "I did that."

"Yeah? Like, what, you're surprised you kissed somebody? That's fucking weird!"

"I am. I have never done it before, I didn't think it would be so easy. But I wasn't afraid like I expected to be, and I enjoyed the feeling."

One single fact kept Marcy from harping on about how bold of an assumption it was to kiss her out of nowhere. "Whoa, hold up. I'm really your first?"

"Yes," she breathed, cheeks warming to match Marceline's as she fidgeted with her fingers.

"That… amazing one you just planted on me was your first kiss?!"

Bonnie raised her eyebrows at her. "Oh, it was good?"

"Dude, I'm practically at full sail down here already!" When the hapless girl didn't seem to have any idea what she meant by that, she clarified, "Yes, it was good!"

"Oh. Then it was a successful experiment! Hooray!" Marceline just gaped at her open-mouthed. "We should do more experiments, I think."

"Yeah? What, you think I'm that easy?" she scoffed, trying to focus on reaching for her bass instead of blushing scarlet. But she barely touched the neck before firm hands were pinning her to the bed. "HEY!"

"You will assist me," the girl she had once mistaken for a marshmallow ordered her with a sly smirk.

Marceline finally understood that she had been hoodwinked. Well, not really; she believed this girl had no experience, but she had made the erroneous assumption that also meant she would be timid. Nope.

"I will? That's pretty interesting, I thought I got to decide that part."

"You do. But I already know you will decide to help me." Her hips started shifting on top of Marceline's, eyes briefly falling shut. "Mmm… mm?"

The rocker looked away, waiting for the backlash. Bracing to be shouted at, or called any number of names. She had been down that road before — most recently with Ash, who had no problem doing that to her but only when he was angry.

"You're a transgender person."

Stunned by the bluntness of the phrasing, she finally looked up to see nothing but surprise in Bonnie's features. No judgment, no disgust. "Um… yeah. Well, we prefer just 'trans'."

"Oh! 'Justrans' then." She shifted a few more times, prompting a little groan from both of them. "This will certainly make the experiment easier; I already know how to work with one of these from anatomy class."

Marcy knew she wasn't trying to be cruel. She could tell. But she still hissed up at her, "Can you like, not act like I'm some kind of sex slave robot? There's a real person with a real blackened soul down here."

With a little gasp, she covered her mouth. "Bloobalooby! I'm sorry, you're right." Her hips rolled again, sending a wave of heat down into the rocker from their point of contact, blinding her with pleasure. "Do you consent to experimenting with me sexually, and taking my virginity?"

Marceline could only sputter. And she almost told her 'no' simply because she was so shocked at the entire situation. But it was beginning to feel way too good. Why? Why did she want to?

"Sure. If you really don't care that I'm some problem you picked up off the side of the road."

"You are perfect." For just a second, Marcy felt a flutter in her stomach from such praise. Then Bonnie elaborated, "I'm comfortable with you, and I can tell that you are an adequate size to give me a wonderful first experience."

"Oh. That kind of 'perfect'. Right."

Genuinely puzzled, she tilted her head and asked, "What other kind is there?"

Instead of answering, Marceline pulled her down for a heated kiss. They kept that up while rolling around on the bed, running their fingers through each other's hair, humming into the contact. By the time they came up for air, she realized her sweater had disappeared.

"Can I see you?"

"Oh, is that going to help with the experiment?" Bonnie lowered her voice. "Am I… sexy?"

"Well, duh," she laughed as she dropped her jeans. But she fell speechless when she saw the shapely pink body coming into view. "I'm… yep. Definitely stand by my statement."

"I think you are sexy as well." But she was saying it shyly, as if stating a secret, rather than in a flirty way. This girl really didn't understand human sexuality but she was trying her best.

Weird but cute. And her face was glowing red like a stoplight… and Marceline liked red things.

They fell into each other with eagerness, kissing all over faces and necks as their bodies combined. Bonnibel was so soft inside, and her skin smelled like flowers. The little gasps and mewlings at the foreign sensations only made Marcy throb harder, willed her hips to begin moving.

Minutes later, she broke yet another kiss to whisper urgently, "I'm… I'm gonna finish, I d-don't have… a condom…"

"I'm on birth control, to regulate my cycle. I will not become pregnant." But she was biting her lip. The sensations had changed how she reacted. "Will you…? Please?"

She would. Moans fell freely from both of them as their bodies shifted faster and faster, until the dam burst and Marceline felt both their bodies convulsing with the proof of their pleasure. It was an instant, it was an eternity. It was everything.

As they lay curled up together, silence reigned for a few minutes. Experiment complete. Neither of the new quite what to say. Until finally Bonnie whispered, "You sang."

"Huh?"

"When you ejaculated. It was like singing." She closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips as her hand drifted up to cover her own heart. "It was so sweet…"

Marceline scoffed, resisting the temptation to roll over and away to protect her own feelings. "N-no way. I don't do 'sweet', you're loopy. Literally fucked your brains out."

"No, my brains are still intact," she teased with a light chuckle as she began to draw little circles on Marcy's pale shoulder. "And you sang. And I am very, very satisfied with your 'axe'."

That prompted a gleeful giggle from both women. "Told you. I slay all day, Bonnie-bae."

                                                      THE END