It was cold.

Obviously.

It was November, and Bonnibel was on the beach. That was practically the recipe for being cold. Unless you lived somewhere tropical, which Bonnie did not. For a moment, as she pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, she wished that Uncle Peter's transfer had been to California or Florida, somewhere nice and sunny. But then, she realised quickly that she never would've met Marceline if that had been the case, so she decided she was rather okay with the cold weather.

She looked around at her friends. They were all a little bit drunk, and Bonnie had decided not to partake. Not around strangers who could do anything. Plus, a beach party and alcohol didn't sound like the best idea – despite the cold, there was probably at least one drunken idiot who would decide to go for a swim.

"Try to smile, Bonnie," Lady nudged her with her shoulder, "You're acting like we've kidnapped you."

"Uh…" Bonnie recalled the way they burst into her bedroom, said something about a Thanksgiving beach party, and dragged her outside by her sleeve. "You quite literally did."

She'd known about the party already; her girlfriend had texted her to invite her along with Keila and the rest of her friends, but Bonnie had declined. It was a party, which was already not Bonnie's thing. But sitting bored and probably freezing cold on the beach wasn't the way she wanted to spend her Thursday night. Since she didn't celebrate Thanksgiving, she'd been using the day to focus solely on her work. She'd attempted to do that for most of the break, but any time she was working and Marceline decided to show up, her studying ended up forgotten on her desk.

(Yesterday, in one of the few moments where her lips weren't pressed right against her girlfriend's, she'd joked that Marceline was distracting her from her studying. Marceline had merely smirked and told her, "Bon, we're studying anatomy.")

"Details, details," Lady waved her accusation away, "have a drink. There's loads going around and it'll warm you up."

What would warm her up was a nice cup of tea and a blanket, but Bonnie knew she wasn't going to get that any time soon. Especially since she couldn't call Uncle Peter for a lift, as he was out on his first date in years with a man he'd met at work. She could walk home, theoretically; they'd walked here, because Jake was sick of being designated driver and most of her friends were staying at Phoebe's that night, since she lived closer to the beach. But Bonnie didn't want to walk home alone in the dark. Rationally, she knew nothing bad would happen, but there was something about it that made her uneasy.

"I'll pass," Bonnie said, stuffing her hands in her pockets, "I'd rather not drunkenly wander into the ocean and drown later."

Lady laughed. "That's a little bit dramatic. Have you been hanging around with Elle lately?"

Bonnie looked over to the girl in question. She was a few feet away, talking with a burly looking boy who Bonnie vaguely recognised from school. She assumed he was on the football team or something. Bonnie was fairly sure that Elle had dated every guy on that team.

"Perk up," Lady said when Bonnie kept quiet and contemplative, "you could always call Marceline to come and get you. Unless she's already here."

"She's here somewhere," Bonnie looked around the throngs of people hanging around on the sand, glancing over at the bonfire someone had started. Probably illegally, she realised. "Unlike some people, she actually texted me and asked me if I wanted to come."

Lady's smile was unwavering, even after that not-so-subtle dig. "I won't take that personally. You're just crabby because we tore you away from your schoolwork."

She wasn't wrong, Bonnie knew. But before she could say that, Jake bounded over and held out his hand to his girlfriend. "Come on, Lady, Marshall's hooking up a speaker. Let's go dance."

Lady gave Bonnie one last, "Try to perk up," before running off with her boyfriend. Bonnie sighed, pulling her coat tighter again. At least she was in purple jeans and her favourite pink hoodie; she'd be an entire block of ice if she were in a dress.

Maybe people watching would help her pass the time. Or at least make her feel a little less bored. She dug her fingers into the sand and let the grains run through them as she glanced around, looking for people she knew. AKA, looking for Marceline. Or Keila, who would likely be with Marceline.

First, she spotted Finn with Phoebe. They were sat a little way away from everyone else, closer to the ocean. Their fingers were tangled together, and Phoebe had her head on his shoulder. It was probably the calmest she'd ever seen Finn. She smiled quietly to herself, glad that they were happy.

She looked in the direction that Jake and Lady had run off in. They were dancing to a song Bonnie could only vaguely hear, and probably wouldn't recognise anyway. Marshall was stood with Fionna; it looked like she had his phone and was scrolling through to choose the next song. Bonnie looked away from the blonde and observed Marshall; from where she was sat, she could see his green eyes wandering over Fionna while she wasn't looking.

Interesting, Bonnie thought to herself, a possible crush? Perhaps she shouldn't talk to Marceline about that; while Marshall might've been a wingman for Bonnie, she had a feeling that Marceline would be less than helpful if she knew her brother liked somebody. Bonnibel smiled at the thought of her girlfriend trying to be a wingman. She was so blunt sometimes, so she could imagine it would be a rather hilarious endeavour. Then again, Marceline was surprisingly good with advice. Maybe she'd be a good wingman. Or wingwoman.

She looked around for Marceline again, but couldn't see her through the thickening crowds. Bonnie pulled her knees up to her chest for warmth. Maybe Marceline hadn't ended up coming after all. Despite what Bonnie had assumed – mostly from Marceline's constant declarations that she was a badass punk rock goddess – her girlfriend had admitted that she wasn't actually that big on partying. The actual quote was, "eh, I'd rather hang out with a few people and get drunk and play Mario Kart than go out to a huge party. But they're fun occasionally." Maybe she felt like this wasn't one of the occasions where it would be fun.

Or maybe she just decided she'd rather not freeze to death.

Bonnie shivered, but wasn't sure if it was from the cold or if it was because of the person she'd spotted. She saw that stupid white mohawk and wanted to smack the grin off the man's face. Ash. He was with a group of guys, laughing it up, beer bottle in hand. Despite Marceline saying that they were both toxic in that relationship, she couldn't help but side with her girlfriend. Partially because she would always side with Marceline, but mostly because of the things she'd witnessed. Ash in the bookstore, being controlling and bossing Marceline around. Ash on this beach a little under a year ago, pushing Marceline, threatening her. Marceline might've used him, but she had a feeling that Ash was far more in the wrong.

Marceline had been a good person in a bad place. Ash was just bad.

Someone dropped down onto the sand next to her, and Bonnie looked up, frowning in confusion. Elle smiled a little awkwardly. "Hey, Bonnie."

"Hi," Bonnie answered, still a little confused. She looked back to the burly football player with a frown. "Flirting unsuccessful?"

Elle scoffed. "No, he just wants something serious and knows about my thing with Brad. Even though that's over."

This week, Bonnie thought. Instead, she just shrugged. "Don't you want something serious?"

"Too much drama," Elle said, and Bonnie couldn't hold back her surprise. Elle? Too much drama? Had she not seen her own life? "I mean, couples fight all the time. It's exhausting. You get it, right?"

Bonnie blinked. "Um… no. I don't."

Elle raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You don't?"

"No… Marceline and I have never fought," Bonnie said, and even though she'd assumed that was a good thing, now she was worried. Was it bad? "Not in our relationship, anyway. We used to fight all the time, before we were friends."

In fact, it had been just over a year since Bonnie had moved. In a few days, it will have been a year since she met her girlfriend and all of her friends. She wondered if she should do something to celebrate. She probably wouldn't.

"Huh," Elle said. She frowned, like she was a little confused at the thought, and Bonnie made the mental note to talk to Marceline about it. "Anyway, is Abadeer not here with you? I would've figured this would be her scene."

"I'm sure Marceline's around here somewhere with her friends. She texted me before you guys kidnapped me and asked me if I wanted to come, but…" Bonnie glanced around again, but she still didn't spot the familiar wild mane of hair, "I might go looking for her later. She's especially cute when she's drunk."

Elle hummed in reply, and after a few moments of strangely comfortable silence, she said, "Hey. I know I like, joke about that and everything, but I actually think you guys are kinda good together."

Bonnie raised her eyebrows. "Okay, how much alcohol have you consumed? I'm not disagreeing, but the fact that it came from you…?"

"Surprisingly, I've actually only had one drink," Elle said, and she shrugged and continued, "I don't know. Ever since getting with you, she's been, like… lighter? Probably doesn't make sense. We've all known her since we were like, five. When we started school. And she was always really quiet. Never talked to anybody."

"She likes to joke that Marshall got all of the social skills and she got 'the looks, the brains, the sense of humour, etcetera'," Bonnie said, and then admitted, "though, sometimes I'm not sure if she's actually joking."

"Either way, she's not wrong about him getting all the social skills. He's always been really talkative." Elle said, then hummed in consideration and added, "And I'll give her the looks thing. But Marshall is pretty good looking too."

Bonnie laughed. "Eh, not my type."

"Don't remind me," Elle chuckled, "you could've just told us you were gay and had the hots for Marceline."

"I didn't know I was gay," Bonnie shrugged, admittedly cringing at how insistent she'd been about her supposed heterosexuality. Perhaps that should've been a sign; nobody who is actually confident in their sexuality needs to reaffirm it every ten seconds. "And I definitely didn't have the hots for her back then, even though I couldn't deny she was pretty. She was so annoying. Always trying to get under my skin and push my buttons. She couldn't stand me and I couldn't stand her."

"Kinda like a boy pushing a girl over on the playground because he likes her," Elle smirked, "she was so into you. Otherwise, she would've just ignored you like she's always done to everyone who wasn't Keila or her brother or those other guys she hangs around with."

Bonnie smiled softly. That made sense. She made the mental note to tease her girlfriend about it later. "She really just ignored you guys all the time?"

"Yup, except for when we hit high school and she went kinda crazy. If you even looked at her, she'd get all snappy and tell you to fuck off," Elle said, "god knows what was going on there. Even after she chilled out a bit, though, she still always seemed a little bit… off. You know? Like, there was this giant weight on her shoulder. Girl always looked miserable. Then you showed up, and somehow busted through the mega-walls she's got up, and now she's so different. Like, she actually smiles now."

Bonnie understood what she meant with that last part. When she first met Marceline, she thought she was the sullenest person ever. She wasn't sure if Marceline even knew how to smile. But now, Bonnie knew that you just had to earn it with her. "I'm not sure that's all entirely because of me."

"She got all happy after you showed up, so…" Elle shrugged, "it probably is. Take credit for it. It's impressive that you actually got the grouchiest girl on the planet to lighten up."

"No, I don't know," Bonnie shook her head, shrugging, "I think she's always been a softie on the inside. She just has trouble opening up."

Elle hummed. "You know what? I can believe that. Anyway, I'm going to grab another drink. Want anything?"

"No thanks," Bonnie said, expecting an eye roll or a 'lighten up' from her companion. But instead, Elle surprised her. She just smiled and got up, brushing the sand off herself with a nod and an "Alright."

When Bonnie was alone once more, she resumed her people-watching. Mostly making up little stories about strangers to occupy herself. It actually turned out to be rather entertaining. She was just wondering why that boy and girl over there were fighting when there was a loud, "Bonnie!" and someone thudded against her.

Bonnie blinked, wrapping her arms around the intruder, combing her fingers through wild black hair and smiling softly. "Hey, Marcy."

"You smell good," Marceline mumbled against her, and Bonnie realised that this was probably the drunkest she'd ever seen her. "Like bubblegum."

"Thank you, darling," Bonnie tried to pull out of the hug, but Marceline tightened her hold and shook her head. "Alright, alright, I won't let go. Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Marceline murmured into her shoulder, "I had some alcohol. Is it obvious?"

"Kind of," Bonnie laughed, again attempting to pull out of the hug so she could kiss her instead. Marceline just kept gripping on. "I knew you were a cuddler, Marcy, but this is pretty extreme, even for you."

"I like it," Marceline said into the collar of Bonnie's coat, "you smell like bubblegum."

"You already told me that." Bonnie laughed, keeping one arm around Marceline's waist but managing to pry her off. Her girlfriend blinked at her, green eyes a little faded and tired, pupils dilated like crazy. "Where's Keila?"

"Doing shots with Guy and Bongo down there," Marceline pointed vaguely off behind her, but she didn't tear her gaze away from Bonnibel, "You're really pretty."

Bonnie blushed. "Thank you, love. You're really pretty too."

"I know. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm like… wow. I don't believe in god, but he really did some of his best work here." Marceline gestured over herself, and Bonnie snorted with laughter at the bluntness. Marceline frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," Bonnie smiled shrewdly and shook her head, "you're just funny."

"I am?" Marceline beamed proudly. "Cool. Am I talking too much? Keila tells me I talk a lot when I'm drunk. Which is funny, because I don't really talk that much when I'm not drunk. Unless I really like someone. Kiss me, please."

Bonnie obliged, pressing a quick kiss to Marceline's lips. They were still so soft; Bonnie didn't know how the hell she managed that, when her own were chapped from the cold. "Are you going to go back to your friends and join them in their shot taking activities?"

"Do you want me to?" Marceline's eyebrows dipped in confusion. "Is that why you said you didn't want to come, even though you're here? Do you think we spend too much time together? I can back off-"

"No, no, nothing like that. I could never spend too much time with you," Bonnie kissed her on the tip of her nose, "My friends sort of kidnapped me. I really didn't want to be here. I was keeping my eye out for you, though."

Marceline hummed, like she was processing Bonnie's story, and then nodded. "Okay. What if we were together 24/7? Would that be spending too much time with me?"

"No," Bonnie shook her head, "that'd just be living with you. Which hopefully will be a thing I'll do one day. If you want."

"I do want. I want you to come to L.A. with me, but you're all smart, so you'll go off to some smart person school in the middle of nowhere where they'll use your big brain to power the country," Marceline pouted, and then frowned like she'd lost her train of thought. Bonnie was surprised she'd even thought about post-school life; Marceline always seemed like a 'live in the now' kind of person.

Bonnibel smiled and tucked some of Marceline's wild hair behind her ear. She looked into soft green eyes and said, "I did apply to UCLA, you know. It's in the top ten over here for medicine, so it's not like I'd be going to an average school just to stick with my girlfriend."

She'd sent off all of her applications, as well as completed her UCAS application for the schools back home. Now, it was merely a waiting game. She had made sure to get a number of recommendation letters from her teachers, so she wouldn't have to rely on whatever Hunson decided to write about her, though it turned out she needn't have worried about that. Her own threats had been effective – the letter he'd written was absolutely stellar. At first, she was wary about it, wondering if there was some kind of angle to it, but Hunson Abadeer had merely acted like Bonnibel didn't exist. He never even acknowledged when she put her hand up to answer a question in class. She was fine with that development.

Marceline just blinked at her. "I'm your girlfriend."

"Yep," Bonnie had to resist the urge to squish her little cheeks, because she was so cute, "you are."

"Yeah…" Marceline hummed absently, still staring at her in that adorable way, "Your eyes are so blue. Like pretty oceans. I like them."

"If we're talking about pretty eyes here, you definitely win," Bonnie said, "but apparently you know that when you look in the mirror and compliment the higher powers on their fantastic work."

"What?" Marceline frowned at her, and once she'd decoded what Bonnie said, her eyes widened, "How did you know I do that?"

"You told me, dummy," Bonnie laughed, and imitated her girlfriend's accent when she quoted, "Sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm like… wow."

Marceline just let out a chuckle that sounded half like a hum. "You'd be a cute American."

"You'd be a cute Brit," Bonnie retorted, and Marceline pressed closer to her and mumbled something unintelligible, "What's up, Marcy?"

"I'm sleepy," Marceline murmured, "but I don't want to go home. Don't want Simon to see me drunk."

"Well, I've been looking for an excuse to get out of here, but I didn't want to walk home alone. Come on." Bonnie helped her up, which was hard when Marceline insisted on clinging onto her the way she was. "Let's go back to my house. You can sleep over and I'll nurse you back to health tomorrow when you're inevitably hungover and grumpy."

"I would never be grumpy with you," Marceline clapped a hand over her heart, "I love you."

"I love you too, darling," Bonnie kept an arm tightly around her waist to steady her, "be honest with me. How much did you drink?"

"Some wine. Some vodka. I didn't really keep track." Marceline paused to yawn. "Do you want to have sex when we get back?"

"What a subtle and romantic way to seduce me," Bonnie joked, and Marceline just mumbled something in reply, "but no. I don't."

Marceline scrunched her nose up in offence. "Why not?"

"Because, baby, you're drunk," Bonnie answered simply, "I would be taking advantage."

"But…" Marceline trailed off, letting Bonnie lead her off the sand and onto the sidewalk, "I want you to take advantage."

"Too bad. It's not happening." Bonnie laughed at her upset pout. "You're not going to get what you want by pouting at me. Not with this. I'll give you as many kisses as you want, but that's where I draw the line."

Marceline sighed rather dramatically. "Why do you have to be so perfect?"

"I'll ignore the tone and just focus on the words," Bonnie said, nudging her forwards slowly, "Now, come on. We've got at least a twenty-minute walk ahead of us at a normal pace. It'll take an hour with you stumbling around."

It took about that anyway, even after Bonnie got Marceline walking at a relatively normal pace. She would get distracted and wander off or stop walking completely to monologue about how much she liked Bonnie. And then there was when they passed by an open grocery store, and Bonnie had to stop her from buying up the whole candy aisle.

They made good time after that, though; Marceline was occupied with the big bag of Twizzlers she'd purchased and letting Bonnie lead her where they needed to be. When they finally arrived at Bonnie's house, Marceline pointed out, Twizzler held between her teeth, "Your uncle isn't here."

Bonnie hummed. "He's on a date."

"And you don't want to jump on this opportunity?" Marceline questioned through a mouthful of Twizzler as Bonnie half-carried her up the stairs. "That's lame."

"What's lame is taking advantage of my girlfriend, which I will not do," Bonnie said, trying to hide the smile when Marceline put on that cute 'give me what I want' pout. "Since you don't have PJs with you, I'll let you borrow some of mine."

Marceline groaned and collapsed onto Bonnie's bed. She spread out her arms, her eyes half-closed. "Don't you want to get up on all this?"

"More than you can imagine, but not tonight," Bonnie perched on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through Marceline's hair, leaning down and kissing her forehead. "You need your rest."

"Okay," Marceline yawned, "but only if you hold me."

"Always," Bonnie said, pulling her up, "but first, we've got to get you into your PJs. Don't fall asleep in the next minute, alright?"

Marceline waved her pinky finger in the air, "Promise."

Not believing her, purely because of how tired she looked, Bonnie grabbed the first pyjama t-shirt and shorts she could find. The shorts were pink, which she knew Marceline would probably complain about, but she didn't care.

She sat back down on the bed and leaned in to kiss her tired girlfriend on the cheek. "Okay, arms up."

Marceline did as she was told – for once – and lifted her arms up. Bonnie pulled off her hoodie, and the t-shirt she was wearing underneath it, tossing them across the room. She grabbed the pyjama t-shirt (a white one with a cat face, which she hoped Marceline would find acceptable) and went to put it on her, but her girlfriend just smirked. "Not going to take my bra off?"

"If this is part of your plan to seduce me, it won't work," Bonnie laughed, dropping the pyjama shirt and taking off Marceline's bra, tossing it aside. She grabbed the shirt again, though admittedly she did have a little bit of a glance downwards. "The human body isn't inherently sexual, Marceline. I can look at a woman's breasts without wanting to jump her."

Marceline let Bonnie put the shirt on her. She didn't react at all the way Bonnie had expected. Instead, she just hummed. "You're right."

"Always am," Bonnie flashed a proud grin and unbuckled Marceline's belt, poking at Marceline's knee through the rip in her jeans and commenting, "I don't know how your knees aren't always cold."

"Maybe they evolved," Marceline suggested tiredly, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them off in a very non-graceful manner. Bonnie offered the pink pyjama shorts and waited for her reaction, but Marceline just pulled them on and laid back down. "Thank you for being a good girlfriend."

"That's not something you ever need to thank me for, darling," Bonnie assured her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, "Okay. I'm going to grab you some water and juice, because you told me you like-"

"Oh no," Marceline interrupted, and Bonnie wondered if she was about to be sick. But it wasn't that at all. "I don't have Hambo."

Bonnie almost laughed. Almost. Only just because there was something funny about an eighteen-year-old girl freaking out about forgetting her teddy bear. But then she remembered what Hambo meant to Marceline and she quickly put an arm around her girlfriend and said, "Hey, it's okay. You'll have me."

Marceline shook her head, "It's not the same. I don't- I have to go home-"

"No, no, hang on," Bonnie steadied her, putting her hands on her shoulders, looking into panicked green eyes and saying, "I think I have something that can help. Just… hang on just a sec, okay?"

Bonnie stood up and quickly crossed over to her wardrobe, digging around. She was sure it was in there. It was the only thing she'd kept, and she was positive she hadn't left it in York.

Quietly, as she was rooting around, Marceline asked, "What're you doing?"

"Aha," Bonnie let out when she found it, grabbing the toy by the tail and pulling it out. She whirled around and presented the little stuffed cat to Marceline. "This is Timmy. My childhood teddy bear. He lives in the closet, much like I did for seventeen years."

Marceline blinked at the toy in surprise. "Oh."

"I know he's not Hambo, but hopefully he can hold you over for the night," Bonnie pushed the stuffed cat into Marceline's arms, "He looked after me pretty well as a kid, so… he's got excellent qualifications."

Marceline stared at her in shock and threw an arm around her in a tight hug. "Bonnie. I love you."

She hugged Marceline back gently. "I love you too, Marcy."

"You probably don't get why it's a big deal and I'm kinda too drunk to explain it in a way that makes sense," Marceline rambled into her shoulder, "but it's just- you're so good, you know? You don't make fun of me and you're so perfect and nobody's ever treated me as well as you do."

"Hey," Bonnie had to act like the words didn't make her heart ache as she pulled away and sent Marceline a soft smile, "I'm just treating you the way you deserve to be treated."

Marceline stared at her with so much surprise that it really did make Bonnie's heart ache. It reminded her that her girlfriend has had to deal with a lot of horrible things.

"You deserve all the good things there are in this world, Marcy," Bonnie told her firmly, "I would never make fun of you for anything; when I became your friend, not even your girlfriend, but your friend, I made a promise that I'd always treat you with the respect you deserve. That's a promise everyone should make when someone lets them into their life. You've met some horrible people who didn't make that promise, but their actions don't mean you're deserving of any less respect."

"God, Bonnie," Marceline buried her face in Bonnie's shoulder, and Bonnibel just held her close, feeling her there, "You know I think you're an angel, right?"

Bonnie laughed quietly. "Yeah, I know. Now, let me go and get you some water. Don't want you to be too hungover in the morning."

"I'm thankful for you," Marceline said as she pulled away from her, a little bit teary eyed. "You're supposed to say what you're thankful for at some point on Thanksgiving. And I'm thankful for you."

Bonnie smiled, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend's forehead. "I'm so very, very thankful for you too, my love."

so i posted a lil cute oneshot on my ao3 if you're interested in reading it (it's bubbline) my user over there is laurenjauregui (yes i'm a fifth harmony stannie) i also posted a catradora one the other day if you fw that too, i'm basically going to finish this fic and then forget that this website exists again