#it usually happens when I've been studying for too many hours and I'm already exhausted

[idon-twannabeperceived]

I love when i look at a math problem and just the wording absolutely obliterates me so i end up closing the notebook to go do something else, and then when i come back to it the answer hits me, beautiful math procedures come to me like a vision.

[e-lisard]

Looping torment

Characters: Dahlia Wolfe, Seere, Stolas

Story: Heir of Magic

TW: none

WC: 755

"Good night, Seere," Dahlia whispers as she settles down, trying not to disturb Stolas.

"Night, Dahls," he whispers back, pulling her closer despite the summer heat.

His skin is cooler than she expected, and before she knows it, she's off to sleep.

An explosion wakes her up, and Dahlia softly curses as she rubs a hand over her rapidly beating heart. "Two mornings in a row really is too much..." she mutters, glaring in the direction of the door.

Seere is already gone, making it also two days in a row that they are up early.

She pushes herself out of bed, yawning. Is Stolas still busy with the same experiment? Usually he takes a break of a day or two to study the theory again before he retries.

But then again, that's in Belial's castle, and this is Stolas' castle. Maybe he's less afraid to break things here?

When she comes out of the bedroom, she looks the ash-covered Stolas up and down before snorting. "You'd think you would know better by now."

Stolas turns his head 180° to face her, and Dahlia quickly looks away, still uncomfortable with that particular ability of his.

"Maybe. But I am close to getting my desired result now." His voice is calm as he repeats what he said yesterday, and Dahlia frowns.

"Sure."

A few hours later have Dahlia ready to yell.

It's not the infuriating summer heat, made worse by the humid air in Stolas' domain.

It's not her hair being insufferable and frizzy due to said humidity.

It's not Seere poking at her and trying to get her do to more despite the heat being too exhausting.

It's the fact that everything is the same as yesterday.

Well, maybe the heat and humidity and Seere being Seere helps with her annoyance and frustration.

But they're not the main source.

"Stolas, I need your big boy brain on a case," Dahlia pushes into his lab, hands twitching, as Seere quietly follows her.

"Oh?" This time he luckily turns himself around, rather than just his head. "You look... Agitated."

"You didn't explode anything yesterday morning, right?" She taps her fingers against one of the tables, only relaxing a little bit when Seere wraps her in a hug from behind, their cold skin soothing.

"No? If I did, I would not have been doing an experiment this morning."

"Well, that settles it. I've done today before." She turns, burrying her head in Seere's chest. "Of course it just had to be a day as hot as today."

"You have... Already done today before?" She can hear Stolas coming closer, hesitantly patting her hair. Still so awkward with affection. "Do you mean to say you are in a time loop?"

"Maybe? Sort of? It's just one repeat so far, maybe tomorrow will actually be... Tomorrow." She sighs in frustration, turning her head a little so she can look at Stolas. "But knowing my luck, it won't."

"I see..." Stolas shares a look with Seere, eyes narrowed. "Did you touch anything in my laboratory today? ... Yesterday? Either of you?"

"No, last I came into your laboratory was when I arrived and you gave me a tour." Dahlia shakes her head.

"This is also the first time I've been in here in a while." Seere takes over when Stolas stops patting her hair, gently carding his fingers through it.

"... I see. Well, if tomorrow for you is still today for us, I suppose we can start work then. Be sure to tell me as early as possible, alright?"

The next morning, an explosion startles Dahlia awake again, and this time she curses with more feeling. She pulls on one of Seere's shirts, stomping out of the room and seeing Stolas leave his lab this time, just as ash-covered as before. "Stolas, I'm in a fucking time loop."

"Oh dear. How many repeats have you had already, for this level of agitation?"

"This is the third." She huffs, crossing her arms.

"Only the third?" He walks closer, reaching out to her only to stop as he remembers how dirty he is. "Is today that bad?"

"It's hot and humid and I get woken up by an explosion. If it happened only once, annoying maybe, but survivable. Now, I'm ready to start biting."

Stolas sighs, but it's an amused sigh as he studies her. "I suppose I'll call Orobas, then, and start doing research. Make sure to remember the most important parts for if we don't manage in one day, alright?"

-----

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[oldanatomical-heartt]

¿Te encanto?

Wrote this when I was fourteen, so it’s a little cringey. Forgive me for any Spanish errors, I was only in my second year of Spanish and I’ve been out of Spanish classes for too long to go back and correct it :(

(Translations are in parenthesis)

Peter glanced at the classroom behind him from his front row seat.  He'd been placed there, right next to the teacher's desk, after he was caught too many times watching YouTube instead of conjugating Spanish verbs.  As he looked at his classmates' faces, looking at their phones participating in the review game, he noticed one girl in the back wasn't.  He peered around the boy slightly blocking his sight to see her, (H/C) (hair type) hair, spilling over the arms she was resting her chin on.

"Peter!" Profe Rojas called, Peter snapping his head back towards the front.

"Yes, Profe?"

"You haven't answered the past three questions, if you need this review for the test, I suggest you participate," the teacher snapped.

"Yes, Profe," Peter said quietly, even though he knew he normally got a hundred percent on his exams.

Peter answered a few more questions before Profe Rojas passed out the test and the class began to complete it.

Half an hour later with his completed test turned in, Peter sat at his desk twiddling with his thumbs, thinking of what might happen today. Unfortunately, the bell interrupted his thoughts of Spider-Man's adventures.  As he quickly gathered his papers and things, Peter looked to see if the girl was there, but she had already left.  Peter sighed and was about to leave, when his teacher caught him on his way out.

"Peter," Profe Rojas said, making Peter turn.

"Yes?" Peter grimaced, afraid of the lecture he was about to receive.

"Lo siento, I forgot that even though you can sometimes be a delinquent, o un estudiante muy perezoso, you are very good at Spanish." (I'm sorry,  I forgot that even though you can sometimes be a delinquent, or a very lazy student, you are very good at Spanish)

"Oh, than-"

"-try again," he interrupted.

"Lo siento. Muchas gracias Profe, estudié mucho." (Sorry.  Thank you very much Profe, I studied a lot)

"Bueno, hasta mañana Peter." (Good, see you tomorrow Peter)

"Adiós!" Peter called over his shoulder as he jogged out of class.

Rushing back to his locker Peter shoved his homework into his backpack, before racing out of the school doors and into the streets of Queens. Turning down an alleyway Peter dug through his backpack to pull out the Spider-Man suit that was hidden underneath all his books. Quickly changing behind a dumpster and then webbing his backpack to a wall, Peter was off, making his daily rounds.

The rest of the day went by without anything of much interest, retrieving a stolen purse, catching underage teens drinking beer, playing some kickball with some first-graders. Exhausted, Peter came home and easily went through his homework, before sitting down with May for dinner and then going out for his uneventful nightly rounds, before returning home for bed.

The next day couldn't have gone by any slower for Peter, who upon entering school caught a glimpse of the girl from the back of Spanish class. He didn't know what it was about her, but something about her was drawing him in. Each class drudged along, Peter watching the clock until fourth period. Finally, when the bell rang Peter breezed by a confused Ned on his quick-paced route to the A rooms. Despite his attempt, Peter had just walked in the door when the bell rang and was quickly ushered into his seat.

"¡Buenas tardes mis amigos y amigas! ¡Hoy es viernes, viernes, viernes!" Profe Rojas enthusiastically announced to the class, stretching the e in buenas and repeating 'viernes' like a sports announcer. (Good afternoon my friends!  Today is Friday, Friday, Friday!)

The class collectively rolled their eyes at Profe Rojas's attempt to seem cool, this was not the first and definitely not his last attempt.

"I've graded your exams, and to the majority of the class, muy bueno!  Ellos  estudiaron, correcto?" Profe asked with a smile as he began handing back the tests row by row. ( I've graded your exams, and to the majority of the class, very good!  You all studied, right?) 

"Unfortunately, some of you did not do as well as I hoped you would.  If you have a note written on your exam, please see me after class," Profe said, looking directly at Peter.

Peter started to sweat, he thought he did good on the test, he knew almost every answer, but maybe he didn't. Anxious, he began twiddling his fingers as Profe finally reached his desk, the last row.  He almost ripped the test when he grabbed it from Profe's hands.  To his relief and confusion, on the top of the test next to the name slot was "100% Muy Bueno Peter ¡Congratulaciones!" (100% Very good Peter Congratulations!)   Peter leaned back and let out a sigh as all of his fears quickly hit the floor.  Peter glanced at the girl in the back and noticed she had her head in her hands with her hood over her head.

"(Y/N), no veo tu cabeza," Profe said, which made the girl look up. ((Y/N), I can't see your head) 

She looked like she was thinking, for a moment, when Profe tapped his head where her hood was.  She slowly nodded, removing the hood.

"Sorry," she said softly, so quiet Peter wouldn't have heard if he wasn't paying attention.

"En español por favor," Profe corrected. (In Spanish please)

"Oh, uh, lo siento." (Oh, uh, I'm sorry)

"Bueno!" Profe called, but Peter didn't hear him because all he could think about was how he now knew the girl's name. 

(Y/N).

Class went as usual, now learning demonstratives.  All throughout the lesson, Peter kept glancing back at (Y/N), as she seemed in a daze as she followed the lesson (much like Peter).  The bell ringing startled Peter, as it suddenly seemed to do that a lot recently.   Peter didn't know what he was going to say, but he knew that he wanted to introduce himself to (Y/N), as she had not left yet.  Furiously stuffing his backpack Peter was about to make his way over to her when Profe Rojas called him over yet again.  Peter sighed frustratedly as he tried to appear neutral to his teacher.

"Peter! Hablé con tu tía and she approved my proposal." (Peter!  I talked with your aunt and she approved my proposal)

Peter shifted from one leg to the other in discomfort as Profe Rojas continued.

"You see, some students are having a bit of trouble in class, no comprende los lecciones, y necesita asistencia para aprender".  (You see, some students are having a bit of trouble in class, they don't understand the lessons, and need help to learn.)

"Okay, I don't understand, I have an A in this class..." Peter said.

"Sí, sí. Estas correcto.  Your aunt told me you'd be available to tutor those students who aren't doing so well, and she thinks it'll be a better use of your time than what she says you already do."

Peter shifted again, slightly nervous about his 'mysterious whereabouts' with Aunt May.

"Then I don't have much of a choice, do I."

Profe laughed slightly at Peter's reply, "Not really, no."

"Alright then, who will I be tutoring?"

"Me."

Peter whirled around to see (Y/N) there, glancing from the floor to Peter and to the floor again. She awkwardly clung to the straps of her backpack and slighting rolling on the balls of her feet.

"(Y/N), isn't doing so well, I was hoping you'd be able to help her understand the lessons better," Profe said.

"Yeah yeah, sure, uh, when would this start?" Peter asked, suddenly anxious.

"You free today? Like right after school?" (Y/N) asked, staring at Peter's shoes.

"Uh..." Peter thought for a moment.

He wanted to make his daily rounds right after school, but he also wanted to meet with (Y/N).

"Yes, I am," Peter stated.

"¡Excelente!" Profe cheered, "Escribo permisos para ustedes".  (Excellent!  I'll write passes for you both)

Peter and (Y/N) stood next to each other, awkwardly waiting for Profe Rojas to fill out the passes, one for the library after school and one for them to get to their next class on time, as the passing period was almost over and students were already filling the previously empty desks.  They kept stealing glances at each other, quickly looking away once they made accidental eye contact.

"Bueno!  Now hurry to class, don't misuse those passes," Profe said, and as Peter and (Y/N) exited the classroom they could hear a faint "Excelente! Buenas tardes mis amigos y amigas! Hoy es vierrrrrrrrrrrrnes!"  (Great! Now hurry to class, don't misuse those passes//Excellent!  Good afternoon my friends!  Today is Fridaaaaaaaaaaay!)

"Sorry about this," (Y/N) said, motioning to everything with her hands.

"It's er- totally cool," Peter replied, trying to figure out what to do with his arms.

"You sure?  I mean my failing grade is now a burden to you, and your probably secret girlfriend," (Y/N) said casually.

"My- my what?" Peter stammered, caught off guard by (Y/N)'s statement.

"Your aunt thinks tutoring will be a better use of your time, and you're not in any sports, and a dorky guy like you probably doesn't have much of a social life, no offense, of course, so probably no scandalous parties or the like.  Which means you're probably sneaking off to do stuff, which means you have a girlfriend that you're hiding from your aunt, or y'know you could secretly be that Spider-Man dude or something," (Y/N) said, laughing at her joke, which received an awkward forced laugh from Peter.

"You caught me, I'm sneaking off, but I don't have a girlfriend."

"Really?" (Y/N) responded, genuinely surprised.

"Yes really, why is that so shocking?" Peter questioned, secretly hoping (Y/N) didn't have to turn down a hallway to get to her next class soon.

"I didn't think you swung that way," (Y/N) replied, Peter turning embarrassingly red.

"I'm not gay I swear, Ned's my best friend that's it!"

"Woah there, didn't mean to touch a nerve," (Y/N) taunted slightly smirking, "Anyways, c'mon dude, you're pretty much at the top of every class, and I wouldn't be surprised if at least one person found you cute or something, hopefully a girl for your sake," she said breaking into a grin at her humor.

Peter blushed when she said someone could find him cute, but calmed himself down.

"No, still no girlfriend, but there is one girl I've got my eye on," Peter said, mind wandering to Liz.

"Ooooooooh, spill," (Y/N) said, elbowing him in the ribs.

"D-don't you think that's kind of personal? I mean no offense but I barely know you," Peter said, clutching his backpack straps, leaning away from (Y/N)'s elbowing with a red face.

"Isn't that the point of strangers, we spill our secrets to them because they can't mock us since they'll never see us again," (Y/N) replied, eyebrows raised.

"Maybe, but I'm seeing you again, today, exactly."

"Fair point," (Y/N) said, retreating.

They walked a few more feet in a comfortable silence for (Y/N), but an awkward one for Peter.

"What class you heading to?" Peter asked, attempting to fill the silence of the empty hallways, save for their footsteps.

"Honors chem, but I might drop it.  Not willingly, of course.  My Spanish grade is making my parents think I should take regular classes until I'm back on track," (Y/N) answered shrugging.

"How bad is it anyway, to know what I'm getting myself into?"

"D+, 68% exactly.  I studied so hard for that test, I don't even know what I did wrong," (Y/N) responded, retracting into herself and frowning at the floor.

"Sorry, didn't mean to upset you," Peter said with concern.

(Y/N) sighed, "It's fine, I had to bring it up eventually.  Anyways, sorry to cut this short but Mrs. Hahn's room is this way," she said pointing up the staircase.

"Alright, my class is down that hall over there.  See you later, right?"

"Yeah, nice talking to you Peter," (Y/N) said smiling sweetly.

"You too," Peter said, waving before watching (Y/N) flip up her hood and begin walking up the stairs and then he walked his own way.  (Y/N) smiled to herself as she walked up that stairs, very content with herself for holding a pleasant conversation for that long with Peter.  Peter himself now couldn't wait for the end of the day more than usual, unable to wipe the grin from his face.

"What's got you so happy?" Ned asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

"What do you mean?" Peter answering Ned's question with a question.

"You haven't mentioned Liz's haircut all lunch, what're you thinking about?"

"Apparently I'm tutoring some girl from my Spanish class after school," Peter said casually.

"A girl!  Peter you ladies man!" Ned exclaimed, slapping Peter on the back, "give me details!"

"It's nothing big, she's got a D+ in Spanish and Aunt May told my teacher I'd be more useful tutoring than running around for uh-" Peter glanced around, "for the 'Stark internship.'"

"What's her name?  What's she look like?  How'd it happen?  Have you guys talked yet? Is she cute?"

Peter blushed at Ned's last question and shrugged him off.

"Her name is (Y/N) and Profe introduced us to each other and then we walked to class."

"Oh my GOD she's cute, isn't she?  (Y/N)?  (Y/N) who?  Has she said anything to you yet?  What kind of girl is she, like a nerd, athlete, goth, skater, emo?"

"Ned I would love to answer your questions but all I know is that her name is (Y/N) and we had a nice conversation on our way to our next classes."

"Gimme the rundown, what was the conversation about?"

"Well, I think it started with her apologizing for being a burden and 'taking me away from my secret girlfriend.'  Then I guess she complimented me?  And then it was a bi-"

"Wait, what?  Dude, did she ask you if you had a girlfriend?"

"Well, not directly, she was-"

"Did she?!"

"I guess kind of?"

"Dude!  She totally likes you!"

"Ned please, that's- that's not true."

"She was trying to see if you were available!"

"No, no way."

"He's right," Michelle spoke up from down the table.

The boys snapped their heads towards the unexpected input.

"This- this is a private conversation!" Peter sputtered.

"I know," Michelle stated before picking up her tray and walking to throw away her trash.

"Duuuuuuuuude," Ned said, eyes wide and smiling from ear to ear.

Peter rolled his eyes, nonchalantly checking his watch every two minutes.

When the bell rang at the end of the day Peter all but walked to the library, only to find (Y/N) already standing outside the doors, pass in hand, looking in the glass walls.  She heard Peter's footsteps and turned around, face visibly brightening at the sight of Peter.

"Hey, I thought it'd be best to go in together," (Y/N) said smiling.

"Yeah, good thinking," Peter replied, with the same smile on his face as well.

The duo walked into the library, handing the lady working the desk their passes to be in the library after school hours. She signed them and sent them to a "study room" which was really just a table in between three bookshelves to create makeshift walls.

"So, what do you need the most help with?" Peter asked, setting his bag down in a chair before sitting in the one next to it.

"Everything," (Y/N) sighed, before sitting in the chair next to Peter and pulling it closer to him while hooking her backpack strap over the back of her chair.

Peter tensed when she moved her chair, Ned's words from lunch echoed in his ears as he told himself Ned was wrong.

"Could- could I look at your test from today?" Peter asked, his voice an octave higher.

"Yeah sure," (Y/N) replied, pulling the slightly dog-eared packet out of her backpack.

(Y/N) handed the test to Peter, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with how much (Y/N) didn't understand.  She'd missed nearly every question, but some of it was just unfair grading, like she'd missed an entire question for having an unnecessary accent.

"I'm not stupid," (Y/N) said from her chair, peering over the edge of the paper reading Peter's reaction, "Just so you know."

Peter immediately put down the paper, "No, no, I didn't say I think you are!"

"I know, but I got a 31% on this test, you're bound to think I'm a little... slow, I guess."

"You're not slow, it just seems- do you pay attention in class?" Peter asked, afraid she'd take offense to his question.

"I mean I try," (Y/N) said, shaking her head, "but Profe talks so fast and mostly in Spanish and everything just goes over my head."

"So you have issues understanding the words?"

"I guess so..."

"Well, let's start there then.  We'll start with you learning the vocabulary, and then how to construct sentences.  They won't have to be correct and all in Spanish, but it will help you start to understand how to use the words and article adjectives and the conjugation and stuff."

"Alright, okay.  You sure this doesn't make me sound dumb?"

"I'm sure, besides, it's okay to be smart in most classes but not understand other classes."

"Psssh, says you, Mr. Perfect!" (Y/N) snickered, lightly pushing Peter's arm.

Thoughts ran through Peter's mind, is (Y/N) flirting?  She just called me perfect...  She's still laughing.... (Y/N) has a nice laugh... Peter cleared his mind and laughed along with her.

"Hey, I'm not perfect, I mess up on things, big things," Peter said, remembering heroic acts gone wrong he'd done.

"Like what?" (Y/N) was staring at Peter, sincerely interested in what he'd thought he'd messed up on.

"Aren't you supposed to be studying?" Peter asked, wanting to divert the conversation.

"Aren't you supposed to be tutoring me?" (Y/N) replied, smirking before letting out a hearty laugh.

It was just a simple laugh, but that didn't stop Peter's breath from catching in his throat and his cheeks to turn a shade redder. His grin doubled in size as he pulled his binder out of his backpack ready to begin.

"Touché," he said, unclipping his vocab packet from the binder rings, "Alright, I'm just going to go down the list and see what you already know. If you don't know it, we'll highlight it, okay?"

"Yep, sounds good," her smile faltered for a moment before continuing, "But y'know I'm not very good at it."

"That's alright, you have to start somewhere. Ready?"

(Y/N) gave a weak smile, "Ready."

"Okay, aburir," Peter said.

"Uh- to bore."

"Correct!"

"I only remember it because when we went over the definitions I said 'me.'"

"Doesn't matter, still correct. Aprender."

"To learn."

"Asistir."

"To assist?"

"Kind of? That's a translation but the one we're using in class is to attend."

"That's so misleading."

"Yeah, I guess. Okay, asistir is highlighted. What about bucear?"

"No clue."

"To scuba dive."

"When- when would I ever use that?" She asked in pure confusion.

"Obviously when you're going scuba diving."

The sentence wasn't meant to be a joke, but it wasn't to make fun of (Y/N) either. Neither of it mattered, because (Y/N) giggled at it anyway. Peter's hands fidgeted and then he kept going down the list of verbs. Moments turned to minutes which turned to hours and before they knew it two and a half hours had gone by and (Y/N) and Peter were still working. They had moved on from translations and moved to conjugation, which Peter found (Y/N) completely understood and was even quicker at conjugations than he was. Now Peter was asking (Y/N) questions in Spanish and (Y/N) was replying in complete sentences using as little English words as possible.

"Okay okay, quién es tu tutor de español?" (Okay, okay, who is your Spanish tutor?)

(Y/N) smiled, "Tu, Peter es mi tutor de español." (You, Peter is my Spanish tutor)

"Muy bueno, qué color es la camiseta de tu?" (Very good, what color is your shirt?)

"Uh- colors colors colors... la camiseta de mi es... the feminine form of red?" (Uh- colors colors colors... my shirt is... the feminine form of red?)

"It starts with an r," Peter hinted.

"Rrrrrr-red?" (Y/N) said, giving him a lopsided smile.

Peter laughed, "R-O."

"Roja!  I knew that!"

"Good job," Peter snickered.

The pair had become very comfortable with one another in the past hours, not afraid to crack a joke or say something dumb. Peter's confidence was growing, as was (Y/N)'s. However, Peter took notice that (Y/N) laughed at all his jokes no matter how dumb, and again Ned's words echoed through his head. Peter was starting to get this major crush on (Y/N), but he didn't know if she felt the same.

"What are you staring at, Peter?" (Y/N) asked, noticing he'd been looking at her a while.

"S-sorry, you just have an eyelash," he lied.

"Oh, where?" She asked, rubbing her fingers under her eyes.

"Here let- let me get it," Peter said, a faint blush on his cheeks as he leaned forward and cupped your cheek as he ran his thumb under your eye.

He pretended to brush it on the ground removing his hand from your face before murmuring, "Got it."

"Thanks, Peter," you smiled at him, cheeks the faintest shade of pink.

"So- uh- more questions then?" Peter squeaked.

"Yeah."

"Quien te gusta?" (Who do you like?)

(Y/N) hesitated a moment before answering, "Me gustan mi familia y my amiga mejor." (I like my family and my best friend)

"Quien te encanta?" (Who do you like (romanically)?)

Peter held his breath.  (Y/N) looked at Peter in his eyes, unable to read his expression.

"Me- me encantan mi familia y mis amigos." (I- I love my family and friends)

"No tienes un novio o una novia?" (You don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend?)

"N-no, no lo tengo." (N-no, I don't have one)

(Y/N)'s heart was beating rapidly and Peter was taking shaky breaths.

"Quieres un novio?" (Do you want a boyfriend?)

"Lo depen- depende." (It depen- depends)

"Quieres a mi estoy te novio?" (Do you want me to be your boyfriend?)

Peter bit his lips with the sudden rush of anxiety.  (Y/N) just stared at him, increasing the feeling of knots in his stomach.  After what seemed like an eternity of the two just staring at each other, (Y/N)'s voice, soft and barely a whisper, made itself clear.

"S-sí."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) began nodding her head quickly while grinning ear to ear.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh okay, um, when are you free? I'm pretty busy myself, but I'm sure I can clear some stuff. Not that I'm trying to make it sound like you don't deserve my time, because you totally do, I just, with all these AP and honors classes I'm pretty booked, not to mention my internship, which is draining as well, but-"

"I'm free Friday, if that works for you. Pick me up at seven? There's this new spy movie I wanna go see, if that works for you," (Y/N) interrupted.

"Yes, yes that- that works out perfectly, yes."

"Great," (Y/N) smiled, picking up her stuff.

"Well, I was supposed to leave an hour ago but if I tell my mom the tutoring ran late I won't be in any trouble. See you tomorrow, Peter."

"Yeah, see you," Peter replied, giving a small wave.

He watched her as she walked out the doors of the library, then the doors of the school which we across the hall before returning to his own stuff and picking it up. He couldn't believe it. He had a date with the cute girl from his Spanish class!

[moiraineswife]

Hey! I've been looking at your short stories and I think it's amazing so I thought you could do something about Philippa and Sheala, please? Something like Sheala comforting Philippa about something ³ haha I'm already grateful ❤️

As it happens I’m on another witcher/Philippa kick atm. so pls take this from me. (I haven’t read the books in a little bit, some of this might not be strictly canon but like, we will all just deal with this for The Lesbians) 

                                             All The World’s Escapes

The evening was quiet, peaceful, precisely the way that Sheala liked it. There were many reasons that she chose to live at the very top of a very tall tower, and the silence was just one of them. All that could be heard was the soft scratching of her favourite pen against her favourite parchment, and the crackling of the fire she had lit in the background for warmth. 

All of it was shattered by the sound of smashing glass, and instant cursing. She recognised the cursing at once as Philippa, naturally, as there was no-one else present in her tower, save the ghosts that would never leave it, and they rarely made sounds. Though she thought she might hear them now. 

Getting to her feet and leaving her present research, she moved into Philippa’s study. 

The moment she had known they were simply perfect for each other, was the moment Philippa had requested the construction of her own space. 

Sheala couldn’t abide living on top of other people all the time, even a person she happened to be very much in love with. It was simply too much. 

Everyone needed their own time, and their own space, in Sheala’s view. The mistake other couples made was believing they had to live in one another’s pockets all day, every day, in order to somehow prove their devotion to each other. 

She was, frankly, too old for that bullshit. And Philippa was simply too frank for it. 

Pushing open the door she found her partner with both hands braced on her work bench, with a grip so tight Sheala was quite impressed it hadn’t splintered beneath it. Glass shards were littered across the floor, and Philippa was shaking, her teeth clenched to hold back the further stream of curses Sheala was quite certain were on the very tip of her tongue. 

Moving into the room, she placed a gentle hand on Philippa’s shoulder. It was thrown off almost at once, with enough force that, had she not known better, she might have thought indicated hate. 

Philippa would not look at her, let alone speak to her, but she did not really have to. Sheala was quite sure she know what had happened. 

“You’re expecting too much from yourself far too soon,” she told her quietly. “Come to bed with me now,” she offered.

She was not in the least bit tired and, if truth be told, was itching to return to her research. But this was a time she judged Philippa most certainly did not need to be alone. She needed someone. She needed Sheala. 

“Come on,” she coaxed, when Philippa neither moved nor answered her. 

“I cannot come to bed,” she gritted out, between clenched teeth. She turned on her, her expression twisted with fury and frustration. 

She had left her usual band from her face, and the empty pits of her eyes seemed to condemn her, and threatened to drown any who looked into them for too long in the hatred Philippa herself was bathed in these days. 

“I cannot see,” she hissed, “I cannot restore my eyes. I cannot perform a spell to rid myself of the pain of them,” she went on, and Sheala flinched slightly at the venom in her voice. She moved a little closer to her as she spoke, clawing her way along the bench like a feral cat stalking its prey. “I cannot mix a tonic for sleep as I used to. I cannot even cast a basic spell to light a candle, which a five year old could master, because I cannot do a thing in the state that he has left me in, and you wish me to come to bed?”

“Philippa-” Sheala began, though without any real hope of stopping her. There was no stopping this, and Sheala’s heart broke for her, and broke again with every word she spoke, but there was nothing to do but let her speak them.

“Is that supposed to fix everything, Sheala?” Philippa spat, viciously, “If I sleep tonight, will I wake tomorrow with my eyes? If I rest, will my hands stop shaking, the way they’ve been shaking since I left that place? The way they’ve been shaking for a week, so badly that I cannot work a single somatic spell? If I come to bed will I be myself again? Or will I be stuck this useless, powerless, weak creature that I have become until death takes me?”

Her voice rose to a shout with her last words, and she lashed out blindly. Bowls, mortars, delicate glass tubes, vials, and instruments were flung across the room as though tossed by a sudden hurricane, shattering, and causing Sheala to cover her ears from the sudden, deafening sound.

When Philippa spoke again, however, she would happily have lived the rest of her life with that unendurable noise, rather than the haunting silence left in the wake of her words.

“Because if so, she cannot come for me soon enough.” 

Sheala opened her mouth, to say what, she had no idea, but she never got a word out before Philippa had shifted into her owl form and bolted for the window. 

She had spent more time as owl than human, since she had returned. The owl did not have eyes, any more than she did, but the rest of its senses were far keener than her human ones, and there was no pressure to cast spells, no pressure to speak, no pressure to eat, or to sleep, or to care for herself, while she was in that form. It had become her crutch, and there was little Sheala could do to stop it. 

Sighing, she used magic to clean up the mess that Philippa had made. She repaired the instruments she could, and destroyed the ones that she could not. 

It would be some time before she saw Philippa again. She had become quite used to this, to Philippa fleeing this tower in a futile attempt to flee her frustration, and her problems, and had developed the perfect routine for it. 

She returned to her studies for as long as she could. When she judged it would be a little less than an hour before Philippa’s return, she used magic to begin warming their bed, went to select one of her favourite books from the library, before returning it again, cursing herself, then began to make Philippa’s favourite tea, infused with some lavender. 

Just as she was pouring that into two cups for them, a bright flash of light in Philippa’s study announced her return. 

She walked in, trembling from the cold now, not just her injuries, soaked to her skin. Sheala stood without a word, and helped her out of her clothes, and into the soft, dry ones she had looked out. Then she guided her towards the fire and sat her down. 

Her head was lowered in shame, and it was that, more than anything else, that showed Sheala how low she had sunk this night. 

She pushed the tea into her hands, but Philippa would not drink it. She simply sat, holding it between her frozen fingers, staring into a fire she could not see, but could no doubt feel the warmth of it upon her face. 

After a long moment, she spoke. 

“This world is so large, Sheala,” she said, her voice rasping a little from exhaustion. “It is so big, and getting bigger all the time. Yet no matter how far I fly, no matter how fast, or for how long, I can never escape the things he’s done to me.” 

“No,” Sheala replied, briskly, and brutally, as was her way. Philippa turned away from the fire, back towards her, frowning slightly. “You cannot run from your ghosts, Philippa, any more than you might run from your shadow, or your bones, or your soul. You must carry them with you, as must we all.” 

She reached out and took Philippa’s empty hand in her own, “The only place you can run is to your home. To me.” She squeezed her hand gently, “Where you will be reminded that all of your burdens, all of your demons, and all of your ghosts have a home here, too. They all belong to me as well. And you do not have to carry any of them alone.” 

Philippa was silent for a long moment. Then, more surely than Sheala had seen her move since her return, she set down her cup of tea, got to her feet, and held out her hand. 

Sheala took it. 

“Come to bed, Sheala,” Philippa said, softly, turning and leading them towards their rooms without another word. 

Philippa smiled softly and followed her without a word. 

The tower was quiet once more. Her peace had returned to her. But more importantly, Philippa had. 

[studiash]

I've not been tagged and I'm a fairly small (and not too active Lmao,,,,) studyblr but fuck it.

>Up until a year or so ago I'd never properly studied or done any work at home, the only reason my homework got done was because my school has us do a lot of things digitally and my then 70wpm enabled me to be a lot faster than other students painstakingly typing with two fingers at 10-30wpm

>When I did do work in my own time it was often procrastinated till the last minute, I'll even procrastinate work whilst in class.

> My notes even recently look like absolute garbage, if they even exist. Even things I type are usually just walls of text that essentially is word for word what was said in a lesson, or really brief bullet points that I don't understand later.

>I manage to lose even digital notes, obviously they're somewhere on my google drive or hard drive but when I just name it something generic or keysmash I'm almost definitely going to lose it by the end of the year.

>My early secondary (Middle school) grades were actually really good, especially when you realise I put no effort in. In year 10 (grade 9) though nearly half my grades were failing marks and this past year it's been a struggle to go beyond a pass in certain subjects. (And subjects I did well in was down to hours of work and cramming before tests)

> You know the half of my grades failing in Y10? Most of my other grades weren't passing either, my teachers just didn't put anything down for those sections, some of it was because I was missing the actual tests and deadlines but a lot was because I'd missed so much content in class they were somewhat nice and just didn't record my failure.

>As to why I missed so much? I was in a psych ward for 4 months. The first month or two I wasn't allowed outside of the ward and once I was allowed to go to school I was in and out depending on my perceived (by doctors) mental state

>I was in the psych ward because I'd already been put down as a suicide risk (I had been admitted to hospital after a suicide attempt a few months before but only remained in there a few days) and had been found to be self harming again.

>Even a year or so before admission I'd been regularly going to therapy and counselling sessions for managing my Anxiety, ADHD, and Depression

>I'm also Autistic Lmao

>Heaps of people talk about not sleeping and pulling all nighters to do work, from probably year 8 to even now (going into year 12) I've been dealing with moderate to severe insomnia. At many points an all nighter (or at one point, an all weeker) was my normal and not for the sake of doing work or being productive. It was just me, lying in bed absolutely exhausted, and still not falling asleep.

>Even physically I'm often unwell, if an illness is going around I will often catch it and it will often stop me from doing anything but lie in bed exhausted (Being sick doesn't help when you're already extremely lacking in sleep)

>My wrists have been hating me for the past 3 months and just typing this on my phone I'm in a fair amount of pain, writing notes and setting my planner up and everything has brought me to tears more than once this week because it hurts like fuck. (I'm yet to find out why they're like this but GP and specialist doctor visits have happened and tests are being ran and hopefully something will be found Lmao)

i want to erase the stigma that studyblrs do not struggle in school.

i want to erase the stigma that studyblrs have no mental or physical illnesses or disabilities.

i want to erase the stigma that studyblrs are perfect.