was anyone else as happy as i was with carmilla season zero? two fucking episodes in one night! and fetus Carm! and pre-character development Kirsch! and flower child hippie Perry! and nerdy Mel! and HOLLSTEIN. i need to calm down jfc.
the two people that asked about them frick fracking - like i've said before in other author notes and in the main body of the story, Bonnie is asexual. but i'm not saying that it'll never happen. everything's answered later and i don't want to give things away. spoilers aren't cool.
tada001 - Marceline's dad lives about an hour away from Marceline and Marshall, but because of his work he's basically never around and stuff
crownfish and yurilover24 - if you think 74 chapters is good, i'll tell you something else - i finished 84 today. and i finished the entirety of my planning and there's going to be exactly 100 chapters. hehehe.
(if you follow this on ao3 you'll probably have seen the 53/100 thing. heh.)
Wednesday 22nd October 2014
In the past, Bonnie had never been a Halloween person. She'd never done anything with Bea, so once she'd grown too old for trick or treating, Halloween became a bore. It never really meant anything to her - dressing up? Not her thing. Scary movies? No way could she sit through one of those. The free candy was pretty great, though.
With Marceline, it was a different story.
Bonnie had Halloween plans for the first time since she was about ten – omitting a few Halloweens after that when she'd had a few responsibilities - as Marceline had invited her over on Halloween as she was having a sort-of party for her birthday. So, Bonnie needed a costume. Which is why the second the final bell rang at school, Bonnibel ran out to the parking lot and met Marceline by her car, demanding – very kindly with lots of pleas (so it was basically begging) – that Marceline take her into town so she could do a bit of looking.
And that's where they were now.
She flicked through the rail of Halloween costumes, trying to find something to go with her planned outfit. She wasn't expecting there to be much choice, especially with what she decided to go as.
(Maybe she should just dress up as a witch. It'd be easier.)
Marceline half watched Bonnie and half bit at her fingernails with a raised eyebrow, making her look slightly interested in what Bonnie was doing, "What are you looking for, exactly?"
Bonnibel glanced up at Marceline – swatting her girlfriend's hand from her mouth – before her gaze returned to the rail. "I'm going as a mad scientist, so I need something other than my old lab coat to wear. What are you going as?"
"I don't know. I might just do what I did last year and put some fake fangs in and mess around with fake blood so I can claim I'm a vampire." Marceline rolled her shoulders back in a shrug. She didn't usually dress up for Halloween unless she was going to a party. Last year she'd gone to one at Guy's house, but the year before all she'd done was hung out with her bandmates and watched horror movies while they were drunk. She thought they were funnier that way.
"Thought you already were a vampire," Bonnie teased, nudging Marceline in the side with her elbow. Her gaze shifted to the shelf that was full of different wigs. Maybe she'd get one to make it look like an experiment had gone wrong.
Marceline laughed, "Very funny, Bonnie. I think Keila's doing the same thing."
"You're both so boring." Bonnie commented as she picked up a short white wig. She turned it over in her hands – this might work if she messed it up and maybe put a little bit of fake blood on the ends. She checked the price tag and smiled, "I'm getting this."
Marceline only spared the wig in her hands a passing glance. "I'm thinking about dyeing my hair green again."
As Bonnie stood in front of the self-service checkout, she frowned, "Again? I don't recall you having green hair before."
"I dip-dyed it green last Halloween. I might do that again." As an afterthought, she added, "It faded by the end of November, though."
"I need to re-dye my hair, actually." Bonnie absently responded as she scanned the tag on wig and put in a bag. She put her money in the slot and turned back to Marceline while she waited for her change and receipt. "My roots are starting to show. It's annoying."
Marceline raised an eyebrow and her gaze not-so-subtly flicked up to Bonnie's hair. She could see a little bit of blonde coming through, but it wasn't too obvious. "You look fine." After short pause, she added, "I could dye it for you."
Bonnibel smiled, taking her change and receipt from the checkout and picking her plastic bag up, resting it on her wrist by the handle. "That'd be nice. We can dye our hair together. That'd be cute."
Marceline rolled her eyes, although the idea did appeal to her. "Whatever you say, Bonnie." She checked her phone for the time and gestured to her right, "I have to go to the music store before we go. I need some new strings for my mandolin."
"Okay. Is Keila working?" Bonnie asked. Out of habit, she began swinging the plastic bag around on her wrist. Probably not the best idea, but at least there wasn't something valuable in there.
Marceline shrugged. She didn't talk to Keila about her shifts at work. Usually they just bickered over which bands were better and which musicians were hotter. "I don't know. Maybe."
"As long as that Braco guy isn't there, I'll come in with you." Bonnibel said, "Although I don't think he'll hit on me after what happened at the arcade a few months ago."
Marceline's hand linked with Bonnie's free one. "What happened? I don't think you told me about this."
"LSP set me up with him. She thought it'd fix me or something." Bonnibel shrugged. Bonnie didn't blame her, but at least she wasn't as weird about it now. She knew that the reason she wasn't invited to sleepovers when LSP was present was because she was still a little creeped. She tried not to care.
Marceline barked out a laugh. "That's ridiculous."
"I know it is." Bonnibel responded, "Which is why I don't want to see him. I feel like even though he knows I like girls he'll hit on me."
Marceline shook her head. "Don't worry about that. He won't if I'm around."
"Why?" Bonnibel blinked in realisation, "Does he hit on you?"
Marceline frowned. That sounded almost derogatory. "Why would that be so surprising?" Bonnibel opened her mouth to make amends, but Marceline shrugged her off, "He did. Once. I told him I'd strangle him with an amp cable if he didn't fuck off."
Bonnibel laughed. Hard. "Oh my god. That might be a little extreme, don't you think?"
"I don't have time for fuckboys." Marceline easily responded, "It's better to get them away quickly."
Bonnie held her gaze for a moment, before shrugging. "I guess so. It's not like their flirting would have any sort of effect, anyways. Girls are all that float my boat."
"Good thing I'm one of those then, huh?"
Bonnie boosted herself up on her tiptoes to kiss Marceline's cheek. "It's a very good thing."
Marceline hoped Bonnie wouldn't mention the pink glow to her cheeks as she walked into the music store and saw Keila behind the counter tuning a Fender Telecaster. She'd be teased endlessly. Keila seemed to find amusement in her embarrassment. It was traumatising, and she knew Bonnie would get a kick out of it too.
Bonnie was the one to get Keila's attention. "Hi, Keila!"
Keila looked up from the guitar, her face splitting into a huge grin. "Hey guys. I didn't know you were coming. I'm actually closing in like ten minutes."
"I just need some mandolin strings." Marceline explained. She didn't really need to; Keila had already placed them on the counter.
"I know you do. I was with you when you snapped one." Keila rolled her eyes as she took Marceline's ten dollars and stuffed it into the cash register. She gave Marceline two dollars back – she always let her use her staff discount. It'd probably saved her a lot of money over the years.
"Whatever." Marceline dropped the strings into Bonnie's plastic bag – she'd held it open for her. "Do you want us to wait until you close? I can help you tune stuff and I'll give you a ride home."
Keila beamed, "You're the best." Her gaze flicked to Bonnibel, "I'm just going to assume you don't know much about music, right?"
Bonnie laughed, "You're absolutely right. Shall I just sit behind the counter while you two sort everything out?"
Keila slipped out from behind the counter, taking the guitar with her. "Go for it." Then she jabbed a finger into Marceline's shoulder, "I can't tune violins. The one on the end over there needs tuning."
"How out is it?" Marceline plucked the violin from where it was hanging on the wall, bringing the bow with it. She seated herself on the piano bench and played a few notes, figuring it out for herself. Keila didn't need to respond. "That's not too bad."
She tested all the strings, cringing when she brought the bow across the G string. Keila was quick to explain. "Yeah, that one has been a regular offender. Can you sort it?"
"I can try." Marceline said, "But I might need to change the string if it keeps going out."
"Yeah, that's what I figured." Keila began making sure all the guitars were in their proper place, sorting out the amp that someone had used earlier to try one of the basses.
Bonnibel picked at her fingernails, trying to pass the time quicker. After a few minutes of peeling off her pink nail varnish, she looked up at Marceline, realising she'd never heard Marceline play violin before. And it didn't take her long to realise that Marceline was really good.
It hadn't taken Marceline too long to get the string back into tune, and she was just playing simple melodies, seemingly without thinking about it. It seemed spontaneous; it was half classical, but there was this other ambiance underneath it that Bonnie couldn't put her finger on. The only thing to describe it was that it was ineffable.
Bonnie hadn't even realised that Marceline had stopped playing until she spoke, "What are you staring at?"
Bonnibel sat up, blinking. "Nothing. You're really good at that."
Marceline flashed her a toothy smile as Keila rolled her eyes, "Thanks."
Bonnibel watched as Marceline put the violin back in its proper place, her fingers unconsciously playing with a red guitar pick that Keila had left on the counter. "Do you want me to tidy the counter for you?"
Keila didn't look up from the guitar cable she was tidying up, "Yeah, go for it."
Bonnie nodded and picked up the multiple guitar picks that were littered about the counter. She didn't really know why Keila needed more than one out, but didn't question it. She just put them in the little box that all the guitar picks were left in and straightened out a few leaflets advertising local gigs. Then she collapsed back into the chair, having to hold back the small squeal when she landed on Marceline's lap. "Trying to give me a lap dance, huh?"
"You could've said that you were sat there." Bonnie was aware that her cheeks had turned a bright red. She tried to ignore Keila's laughter. "You're insufferable."
Marceline noted how Bonnie didn't move from her lap, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's waist. "Clearly not, since you haven't dumped me yet."
Bonnibel shrugged, twisting her head back to kiss Marceline, "You're a good kisser."
"That's your reason for keeping me around?" Marceline quirked an eyebrow up, "Glad to know it's not my dashing good looks and amazing personality."
Keila feigned a vomiting noise, "Shut up. God, go have eye sex somewhere else. Jeez."
Almost in perfect synchronisation, Marceline and Bonnie rolled their eyes, although Marceline's was accompanied by a scoff. "You shut up."
Regardless of Keila's comment, Bonnie slid off Marceline's lap and sat on the second chair, watching as Keila locked the door to the store and switched the sign from 'open' to 'closed'. "Are we heading off now?"
Keila nodded, pointing to a door to Marceline's right, "We have to go through the back door in the break room to get out, though. And I have to set the alarms and stuff."
"Bonnie and I will leave now and meet you outside," Marceline announced, standing up, "because I know I'll somehow fuck up and set the alarm off when leaving, so…"
Bonnibel followed Marceline into the break room and out of the back door, into a strange alley that she hadn't even known existed. At least not until now. "How come you offered Keila a ride?"
Marceline just shrugged, "I know that she walks here and we're hanging out at her parents' house tonight anyways so I figured it'd be easier. We can drop you off at home and then go to hers."
"Why are you going to her parents'?" Bonnie asked.
"She has family over and has to see them, and she hates family time because – aside from her parents – they all either ignore her or criticise her. I'm her buffer, I guess." Marceline responded.
It was the same routine every time Keila's family visited; Marceline would go over, act as Keila's safety net and excuse to hide out upstairs. She didn't mind it – she liked spending time with her best friend.
Keila slipped out of the back door before Bonnie could respond, locking it up. Then she turned to Marceline expectantly, "Are we going then?"
Marceline strummed a few chords on the acoustic guitar Keila kept at her parents' house, in no particular order. She wasn't really thinking about music at the moment; she was more concerned about Keila who – although usually perky – was sat on her old bed sulking, trying to ignore the loud voices from downstairs.
After a moment of staring, she finally spoke up, "Are you okay?"
Alright, so that was probably a stupid question. It was pretty obvious she wasn't okay. Marceline didn't think she was that great at comforting people.
(Although if you asked Bonnibel she'd probably tell you different.)
"Not at all," Keila sighed. She glanced up from her computer screen and shrugged, "You don't need to worry about me though. I'll be okay once they leave."
Marceline knew what had brought this bad mood on. The second they'd walked into the house, Keila's extended family – Marceline had assumed it was her aunt – had made some comment about Keila's pansexuality. Something about how she was only saying that to keep her options open because dressing like a thug wouldn't get her any guys. Marceline could relate, even though she'd assured her Dad that she was straight to get him off her back.
Marceline moved from Keila's old desk chair to the bed, nudging her with her shoulder in a way she hoped was comforting. "Want to play Guitar Hero? That always cheers you up."
Keila shook her head, "The Wii is downstairs. I don't want to go there."
"We could go for a walk?" Again, another idiotic suggestion. Great.
"No." Keila fell sideways so her head was rested on Marceline's shoulder, "I don't want to do that. All we'd end up doing is talking about our feelings so my family would annoy me there, too."
"Do you want to write some music?" Marceline asked, "And be obnoxiously loud so they end up clearing out early?"
That got a smile out of Keila. "I would but my amps are all at my place. And I only have the one guitar here."
Marceline shrugged, "We could just put music on really loudly through your CD player. That could work."
The smile grew wider and Keila sat up, "I like your thinking." She shifted from the bed – ruffling up the sheets in the process – and knelt in front of the dusty CD collection in front of her old music player. "All Time Low?"
"Sure." Marceline shifted so she was sitting cross-legged, watching as Keila put the CD in the player and pressed play, cranking the volume up to maximum.
Keila flopped back onto the bed as the first note of The Reckless and the Brave rang out. "What do you want to do now?"
"Anything." Marceline responded, mentally adding anything that'll cheer you up.
Keila smirked and alarm bells went off in Marceline's head. That was what she did when there was an onslaught of teasing about to happen. Hell no. "How about we talk about you and Bonnibel?"
"Me and Bonnie are fine." Marceline easily responded, "Nothing interesting to talk about there."
Keila just shrugged, and the smirk dissolved into a real smile. Marceline supposed this sudden mood change was because of how the music was drowning out her family's voices. "I'm just glad you're happy, okay? Now give me the details. You've avoided that since you guys started dating."
"What sort of details?" Marceline raised an eyebrow, "We hang out. That's it."
Keila smiled like hanging out meant something different because Marceline and Bonnie were dating. Which it didn't, really. All that had changed was that they held hands in public now. And made out. A lot. "Yeah, okay."
"Seriously," Marceline reinforced, "She sits and does her homework and I play music and sometimes she'll take a break and we'll make out or whatever. That's it."
Keila rolled her eyes, "Whatever. You guys are cute, anyway."
"You've already told me that." Marceline pointed out. In the hopes of changing the subject, she added, "You're still coming over for my birthday, right?"
"Of course," Keila said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Is Bonnibel coming too?"
"Yeah." Marceline bobbed her head in confirmation, "Her friends are too." At Keila's look of shock, she adjoined, "Only some of them though. Not the ones that…you know."
Keila chewed on the inside of her cheek in thought, "That might be awkward."
"It's okay. I think I'm kind of…" She wasn't brave enough to call them friends yet, "okay with them all now. We get along, so…it should be fine."
Keila held her stare for a moment before finally shrugging, "Well, as long as you're certain it'll be okay." She paused for a moment before finishing, "So you sit with all of them at school and stuff?"
"Only when Bonnie's there." Marceline picked at her fingernails as an excuse not to meet Keila's gaze, "I don't know, man. They kind of freak me out. I doubt I would be able to hang out with them alone."
Keila didn't ask why. She knew that making friends was hard for Marceline. "I'll be there with you. So will Bonnibel."
"I know." Marceline quickly responded, "Besides, we'll both be pretty drunk. I'm more sociable when I'm drunk."
Keila laughed, "You're funny when you're drunk."
Marceline gasped and clapped a hand against her breastbone in feigned offence, "Am I not usually funny?"
Keila socked her in the arm, "Shut up. You know what I meant."
Marceline scowled and rubbed her arm, but her amused smile broke through no matter how hard she tried to hide it. And once her arm stopped stinging, she wondered how making her best friend happy cheered her up too.
(She didn't figure out the answer.)
Saturday 25th October 2014
"Ugh, it's dripping," Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut, "Grab a towel before this stuff goes in my eyes and blinds me!"
"I don't want to stain any towels with your bright pink hair dye," Marceline objected, "Just wipe it with your hands."
"But then I'll smear pink all over my face!" Bonnibel kept her blue eyes tightly closed, "Get me a towel! Are you saying you want your lovely girlfriend going blind because you didn't want to stain a towel?"
"Ugh," Marceline scoffed and stopped rubbing the pink hair dye into Bonnie's scalp, "Fine. I'll be two seconds."
Bonnie felt Marceline's hands leave her hair and she heard her girlfriend's footsteps fading away before coming back again. Bonnie felt a small towel pressed into her hands and she frowned, dabbing it along her forehead to soak up any excess dye.
"Thank you," Bonnie opened her eyes and placed the towel on the side, glancing over at Marceline. They'd dip-dyed her hair earlier and the tips were a light green colour that Marceline had referred to as 'spooky'. Bonnie just thought it was cute.
They'd taken a small TV break between dying Marceline's hair and starting on Bonnie's, wherein they'd completely ignored the TV and kissed until Marshall had burst in, claiming he'd forgotten his amp cable in the move to his Dad's and needed to pick it up.
Bonnie had announced that Marshall's interruption was a sign that they should probably start on dyeing Bonnie's hair rather than relaxing on the couch and making out. Obviously Marceline had complained, but jumped up anyway to help Bonnie. She'd even provided an old t-shirt for Bonnie to wear so she didn't get dye on her purple dress. Naturally, she wasn't willing to lend Bonnie any jeans, which she could understand – Bonnie wouldn't fit in any of Marceline's jeans, anyway - and Marceline herself was wearing some old pyjamas.
"You're welcome," Marceline smiled at her, putting her gloves back on, "Do you think you need it rubbing in a bit more?"
"Um," Bonnie glanced over at herself in the mirror, "Just a little bit. Then you can help me wash it off under the showerhead."
Marceline smirked at her, "Showering together, huh? That's a little bit saucy for you, Bon."
"Oh, shut up," Bonnibel rolled her eyes, "You know what I meant. Besides, it's not like you haven't seen me in the nude before."
"You were in a bath, concealed by a bunch of bubbles." Marceline pointed out. "I don't think that counts. Do we count the time you walked in on me changing?"
"I think so," Bonnie said, "You didn't seem to care that you were topless and just continued talking about how much you weren't planning on doing our literature essay while I stood in the corner blushing bright red. I was probably the most embarrassed one in that situation."
Marceline just shrugged, "Well, it's not like you've never seen a pair of boobs before, is it?"
"I'll have you know, I haven't," Bonnie folded her arms across her chest, "This is my first relationship, remember?"
"No, Bonnie, that's not -" Marceline laughed, shaking her head as she continued rubbing the hair dye through Bonnie's hair, "I meant like, you have them so you've – like, we both…" she gave up explaining when Bonnie tilted her head to the side in confusion, "You're such a nerd."
"Oh," Bonnibel's eyes widened in realisation, "I get it now. Sorry, yes, of course. I'm a little slow today, aren't I?"
"A little slow? Very slow," Marceline shook her head, moving her hands from Bonnie's hair and smiled, "Let's play would you rather while this sets in. Yeah?"
Bonnie nodded, "Sure. Can I go first?"
Marceline raised an eyebrow, "Alright. Let's see what you've got in store for me, Butler."
"Okay, well," Bonnie hummed in thought, "Would you rather dye your hair pink or shave all of it off?"
Marceline burst out laughing, "Both of those mental images are absolutely hilarious. Honestly? No offence to you or anything, but I'd rather be bald than have pink hair."
Bonnie allowed herself a little scoff of feigned irritation, "Thanks. Good to know you like my hair."
"I never said I didn't. But on me?" Marceline sent her an incredulous look. "No thanks."
Bonnie just shrugged, "You might look good with it. Maybe if I loaned you one of my pink frilly dresses."
"Okay, moving on," Marceline cringed at the mental image, "Would you rather date a normal, attractive boy or date me? But -" Marceline continued as Bonnie rolled her eyes and went to answer with the obvious, "I would be a giant tentacle monster."
"I would rather date tentacle monster Marcy than date a boy," Bonnie easily replied, apparently not even having to think about it, "You'd still be you. I don't care if you're giant and have tentacles."
Marceline raised a challenging eyebrow. "What if a witch came along and turned me into a slug?"
"I'd still love you." Bonnie smiled, squeezing her girlfriend's hand, "I'd carry little slug Marcy in my pocket."
Marceline beamed, "Aw, you're sweet."
"I know," Bonnie leaned up and pushed a kiss to Marceline's cheek. "Would you rather…never be able to play music again or only be able to eat roadkill for the rest of your life?"
"I'll take the roadkill." Marceline instantly replied. "Would you rather lose all of your IQ points or live out your life as a fruit fly?"
"Why a fruit fly specifically?" Bonnie asked before answering, "But that's a tough one. Because both of them would imply me not having an IQ, because flies don't -"
"No, you'd still be you. Just as a fly," Marceline corrected her, "Pick one, loser."
Bonnibel huffed, "Fine. I'd lose my IQ. I don't want to be a fly."
"Interesting. I honestly thought you'd go for the fly thing," Marceline told her, "since you care about academics and intelligence and stuff."
"Yes, but being a human is ten times better than being a fly. Flies have a life span of like, two weeks." Bonnie pointed out, "Would you rather be completely gay or completely straight?"
Marceline's teeth grazed her bottom lip as she thought, "Well, I'd have to be gay if I wanted to still be with you, but straight people never experience homophobia. Yeah, gay. I could deal with the homophobia with you. I mean, it wouldn't be much different than things now, aside from me constantly having to tell people that I'm not a lesbian."
"It really sucks that you have to do that. I wish bi erasure wasn't a thing." Bonnie squeezed her hand. "It's your turn to ask me a question."
"Would you rather have hiccups for the rest of your life or fart rainbows?" Marceline asked her, automatically getting a laugh from Bonnie. "What? That's not that funny."
"It's hard!" Bonnie shot back, "I don't want eternal hiccups but I don't want everyone to know I farted."
"I'd go with the rainbows thing." Marceline admitted, "You'd never have to come out to anyone if you did."
Bonnie snorted with laughter, "That's ridiculous. Yeah, alright. I'd rather fart rainbows. Would you rather put a toothpick under the toenail on your big toe and kick a wall or have to stub your little toe on every single thing you walked past?"
"Oh my god. Neither," Marceline crossed her arms, "Both of those sound horrible."
"You have to pick one." Bonnie poked her in the side, "It's the rules."
Marceline huffed, "Fine. Probably the big toenail and toothpick thing, because that's only a one-time thing. Less painful."
"Yeah, I'd pick that one too," Bonnie nodded, glancing in the mirror, "Can I wash the dye off now? After that we can marathon some movies. How about some musicals?"
"Not a fan of musicals, to be honest," Marceline admitted, "We could watch the Scream series though. I know they're horrors, but they're not too bad."
"No way," Bonnie shook her head, "I'd get nightmares. How about…the Back to the Future series? Those are always fun to watch."
Marceline nodded, crossing over to the bathtub to switch the showerhead on. "Sounds like a plan. I'll make the popcorn and grab the sodas while you wash your hair?"
Bonnie nodded, boosting herself up on her tiptoes to kiss Marceline. "Awesome. I'll see you downstairs?"
"Yep. See you downstairs, dork," Marceline slipped out the door, mock saluting her before she disappeared around the frame.
Bonnibel just smiled to herself as she started washing her hair.
