The roadtrip to Salem had started off as something plausible that they could all do for the October break, but then Keila's family had already planned a vacation, and Cait and Fiona had fallen ill not two days after Marceline had suggested the trip. And on top of that, her father wouldn't let her use his two camper vans on account of her 'losing to temptation'. Marceline just re-blocked his number and apologised profusely to the rest of the group.

So that's how they ended up in Ellen's apartment, seated around a coffee table that was on a new rug, with alcohol and a touchy feely host.

"I'd like to personally apologise once more," Marceline mumbled into her beer. "I should've known my dad would still be a bit of a nut about me being bi."

"Imagine the look on his face if he found out we were dating," Bonnibel laughed, crossing the room from where she'd gone to get her own drink to seat herself down on Marceline's lap. "What did you say to him when you came out? You wouldn't have minded me tempting you?" Her girlfriend twisted on her knee, prodding her cheek with a teasing finger and an arched brow.

Marceline snorted. "I had a big gay crush on you, we get it. But my dad thought you were a saint, you know, even after you came out as a demon lesbian from the sixth circle of hell."

From the floor, Finn scoffed and brushed his fringe from his eyes. "Your dad was a bit of a dick, Marceline." He muttered, to which his brother and Lady both agreed with.

"No offence but I didn't invite you guys over to listen to your family issues," Ellen interrupted the conversation.

"Why did you invite us over?" Jake asked for the rest of the room, seating himself on the arm of the sofa beside his girlfriend, Brooke and Phoebe.

Ellen rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her wine (honestly, who brings wine to a college dorm party? Ellen, apparently, and Marceline wasn't even that surprised) before she turned to face him from her seat on one of her many purple bean bag chairs that were dotted around her room. "To celebrate. We're almost done with college, just another few months."

"Kumbaya," Marceline cheered, lifting her beer bottle up in a mock toast. It was nice when her girlfriend brought her own up to clink their bottles together. It was even nicer when the rest of her friends began muttering out their own 'kumbayas' and giving toasts. Although, she was one hundred percent sure that Finn had said something about a kayak into his bottle, but said nothing of it and instead peered over at Ellen over her girlfriends now fading pink hair. "Are you going to force us to play a party game?"

"We could at the very least play a shitty drunk version of werewolf or something," Jake offered. "Werewolf is fun. We don't even need to make it too complicated, either, just make two of us the werewolves, have one seer and one village drunk."

Bonnibel turned to arch her brow at Jake instead of her girlfriend. "How do we assign the roles, though?"

Jake twisted his mouth in thought, but Ellen was already scrambling up off of her bean bag to rush over to her desk, pulling out a notepad and pen. "Someone write down the roles on these," She shoved the pen and paper straight into Bonnibel's hands with an uncomfortable shoulder pat before waddling into the kitchen to open several cupboards.

"Two werewolves, a seer and the village drunk?" Bonnibel asked, counting her friends out to make sure that, yes, there were in fact eight of them in the room. Marceline, finding herself with nothing to do as Ellen ransacked her own kitchen and her girlfriend assigned role to paper, busied herself with pressing kisses to Bonnibel's neck and jaw. "As delightful as your distractions are, Abadeer, I'm going to have to get off your lap to play this."

As Bonnibel shuffled away from Marceline (by about two inches, so that she could hold her hand in the meantime), Ellen came back from the kitchen with a metal cooking bowl in tow. "We'll shuffle the papers in here," she explained when Jake frowned at the cooking instrument. "Everyone will close their eyes and take a role,we'll all look at our roles, and then someone will count to ten while the werewolves deliberate and the rest of us keep our eyes closed again."

"I wouldn't have pegged you as a dork, Ellen," Marceline muttered, helping her girlfriend fold all the individual pieces of paper and throw them into the bowl, shuffling them up just for good measure. "Werewolf is a dorks game."

"You'd only know that if you were also a dork." Lady shot back teasingly. "Me, Brooke and Phoebe have no idea what's going on."

"I assume it's like the game mafia?" Phoebe could only ask, frowning when Jake made a noise to interject.

Marceline beat him to it. "Yes and no. Proper werewolf has a bunch more roles that do all sorts of confusing secret stuff before everyone opens their eyes," she explained, ignoring the mumble of 'dork' from Finn. "This version is probably the most like mafia."

Phoebe nodded, seemingly content with the explanation that Marceline had given, and everyone on seats shuffled off of them to circle the metal bowl.

"Alright everyone close your eyes and pick your role, but don't open them til we say so," Jake said, already putting a hand over his hands so they could begin. Marceline followed suit and gingerly moved her hand forward, coming into contact almost immediately with another. The hand was rough, most likely Jake's, and knocked hers out of the way in the frantic grabbing of roles. Marceline elbowed him in the ribs and tutted, reaching in again for the second time and taking a piece of paper. "Has everyone finished holding each other's hands?" There was little confirmation, but Marceline assumed everyone had awkwardly nodded their heads like she had done. "Alright, take a look at your role and then close your eyes again. Whoever the seer is reach over and tap someone on the shoulder, if you're tapped you gotta say whether or not you're a werewolf. Village drunk can't speak, so you gotta just make noises and nod and shake your head throughout the rest of the game."

And fuck Marceline was just a villager. She kind of wanted to turn her friends against each other while they all get tipsy, just for one night. Still, she sighed and closed her eyes again, smiling when Bonnibel reached down for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

After Finn counted down from ten, allowing the two werewolves to open their eyes and nod at each other so they knew who their ally was, Marceline opened her eyes and glanced down at her girlfriend.

"Are you a werewolf?"

Bonnibel frowned. "No. Why, have you already forgotten who your fellow werewolf companion is?" And she blinked those big pools of blue and tilted her head.

Marceline inhaled sharply. "Right, okay, no one ask her a question she'll just put words in your mouth."

"Great trick if she's a werewolf, though," Brooke pointed out. "Redirecting accusations? Good move, Bennett, but I'm voting you out."

"Two people are quick to jump on the 'lets vote Bonnibel out as soon as possible' bandwagon." Bonnibel huffed, turning her 'innocent' stare to Jake. "Maybe the werewolves just know I'm the smartest."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright," He glanced between Brooke and Marceline, then went back to Bonnibel. "All three of you make your point as to why you're not a werewolf."

"Well, for one, I'm the seer." Brooke huffed. "And I saw-,"

"Liar." Ellen interrupted. "I'm the seer."

Marceline blinked, furiously glancing between her friends. "I'm sorry?"

"There can't be two seers." Jake groaned. "So one of you is lying. Brooke, what did you see?"

"Bonnibel is a villager." Brooke explained. "I tapped her with my foot and she shook her head."

"And Ellen? What did you see?" Lady asked, leaning forward to peer over at her. "Or are you a fraud?"

Ellen huffed, fiddling with the corner of the piece of paper in her hands. "I'm not saying what I saw just yet. I'd like to wait 'til the next night so I can gather more information."

"Smart move," Marceline nodded. "That's something a seer would actually do, actually. I think Brooke was just saying Bonnie was a villager so she and her werewolf buddy could get off for tonight." Ellen seemed to appreciate the comment, sitting back in her bean bag chair and muttering a thanks to Marceline.

Jake turned to his brother on the floor. "D'you have anything to say or are you the village drunk?" Finn shrugged, much to the disdain of his brother. "Great, okay. Phoebe?"

"Why would Brooke do something like that straight away, though?" Lady asked, turning to Marceline before Phoebe could say anything. "Maybe Ellen is saying she's waiting for intel so she can kill off the actual seer or something."

"Yeah, it's kind of suspicious that Ellen said she's the seer and won't tell us anything." Bonnibel agreed. "Like… why not just hold back on all the information until the second night? Now two people are running the risk of getting killed because they're the seer."

"Only the real seer would be killed during this first night." Ellen explained. "So if neither of us die, the werewolves will be playing it smart."

"This is confusing," Lady wailed, turning to her boyfriend. "Can we just vote to kill Marceline?"

"Excuse me?" Marceline asked shrilly at the sudden target on her back. "We still haven't questioned you, Jake or Phoebe."

Lady rolled her eyes and raised her hand to cross her fingers. "I'm a villager. Swear it. Babe?"

"Villager," Jake confirmed. "Phoebe?" And of course, Phoebe just grunted, earning her a very livid glare from Finn through the hair in his face.

"Why can't y'all make this easy?" Brooke breathed. "Two seers and drunks?" Phoebe shrugged, nodding slightly, and stuck her tongue out at Finn.

Bonnibel sighed. "So Jake, Lady and I are villagers, is what I'm hearing."

"Oh, yeah, cosy up with the guy taking charge of everything. Filthy werewolf." Marceline grumbled, shuffling away from her girlfriend. "I should've played the drunk card too, huh?"

"Well," Jake began. "One of them is most definitely a werewolf. The drunk is a good role to adopt as the enemy; you don't say anything so you can't dig yourself a hole, you then have a lower chance of being killed if suspicion is thrown at you, and you learn a lot during the day."

"Look, let's just count to five and point at who we want to vote out."

"Already?" Ellen shrieked. "We don't know anything!"

"We could vote one of the drunks out," Brooke pointed out. "If it's the actual drunk, the other one will probably be a werewolf. Also, I can check another role and see if it's one hundred percent certain for the next voting."

"You mean I can check," Ellen corrected. "Y'know, because I'm the seer."

"Yeah, yeah," Marceline cut them off before another round of interrogation started. "Let's just vote one of the drunks out. They're gonna be outnumbered whoever we pick, but tomorrow night we're going to have to have a majority."

"Alright everyone point at who you want to eliminate in three, two…"

Marceline wanted to pick Bonnibel. She was being too shady and sneaky to not be a werewolf, but the rest of the group of so called 'villagers' had come up with a pretty good plan with choosing one of the drunks, so she levelled a finger at Finn with a huff.

"Finn, you're dead."

"Is that it?" Brooke muttered. "Do we not get information from that?"

"Nope." Marceline said, popping the 'p'. "Now we gotta close our eyes for ten seconds and wait for either Brooke or Ellen to tap someone."

Jake counted down from ten, and Marceline found herself being tapped on the head. Which, okay, she supposed that could've been Brooke trying to figure out if she was bad or not. But she had faith in Ellen and knew that Brooke and her girlfriend were up to something. She shook her head no, signalling she was a villager, and opened her eyes when Jake got to zero.

"Do either of you two want to say anything?" Jake asked Brooke and Ellen.

Ellen glanced at Bonnibel, then to Marceline. "Bonnibel is most likely a werewolf." She muttered.

"Okay, good, that's the opposite of what Brooke said last round." Lady groaned, clearly not enjoying the confusion of the game. "What about what you saw last round?"

Ellen twisted her mouth in thought. "Finn was a villager."

"I'm sorry?"

"What?"

"Finn what the fuck."

Finn blinked from his seat on the floor, not allowed to talk now that he had been eliminated but suddenly overwhelmed with attention as the room flicked their heads to stare at him wide eyed in disbelief.

"So Phoebe is the drunk?"

"No." Brooke muttered. "Phoebe is a werewolf, so is Ellen."

Marceline spluttered, glancing between Ellen and Phoebe and then flicking her gaze to Bonnibel to see her smirking. "It's Brooke and Bonnibel, I got tapped last night, so it was one hundred percent Ellen who's the real seer. Bonnibel is a werewolf. Brooke is pretending to be seer to drag me and Ellen down."

"Honey," Bonnibel cooed, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Finn being a villager makes no sense."

"Anyone could pose as a village drunk." Jake cut in. "Even the seer, actually."

Jake made a very good point, as per usual. "Well I trust Ellen and Jake." Marceline pointed out, making sure it was known that she wasn't trusting just one person that could be easily mistaken as her werewolf buddy. "And I got tapped last night by a seer, so it makes no sense that Brooke knows that Phoebe is a werewolf."

Lady glanced at Phoebe, who was still remaining quiet. "You could just be saying that to protect her."

"But I'm not." Marceline groaned. "We can kill her tonight, I really don't care, but we have to make sure the werewolves don't sway the vote."

"Abadeer is right. If Phoebe is going to be invested in being the drunk then we're going to get no information out of her at all unless she is hiding as a werewolf." Jake agreed. "There's only one drunk role and according to our seers one was a villager and the other is a werewolf, so, all in favour of moving on and killing Phoebe?"

The group nodded, all pointing at her and closing their eyes soon after. Marceline tried her best to listen out for any movement during the night that could indicate which side of the room the seer was on, but Jake's counting was deliberately too loud for her to hear anything.

"Zero. Seers?"

"Brooke is a werewolf." Ellen confirmed almost immediately. "Marceline is a villager, as was Finn. If we vote her out we might be safe."

"Actually, Marceline is the last werewolf." Came Brooke's response.

Marceline rolled her eyes. "I vote we cull Brooke and Bonnibel the next night just to make sure."

"Hey!" Bonnibel huffed, pushing her playfully. "In all honesty, I'm a villager. I have no idea why Brooke was so quick to defend me in the first round, considering I wasn't tapped."

Brooke spluttered, opened her mouth to retort, but then everyone had raised their hands to point at her and the next night proceeded with Brooke glaring at Ellen the next day.

"Okay, Bonnibel is safe. I think we are wolf free." Ellen muttered, glancing between Phoebe and Brooke.

Eventually, Phoebe groaned and flipped over her paper, revealing that the villagers had indeed won the game. "I was rooting for you to be tactical, Brooke."

"Finn?" Jake looked over at his brother. "You were the drunk?"

Finn nodded glumly. "First time I've ever gotten voted out in the first round. What the fuck, Abadeer?"

"Me?" Marceline spluttered. "What the fuck, Ellen, more like. Who knew she was good at detective work."

Ellen shrugged a shoulder, smirking into her wine glass. "What can I say? I knew the werewolves would have to vote within the groups to keep their cover, so I just took a glance at the main suspects as we did so."

The rest of the party dissolved into more chatter about the game and idle conversations about what they were going to do during the rest of the october break. Marceline just snuggled back up against Bonnibel, muttering out an apology into her faded pink hair, gave her a kiss as she wrapped her arms around her.


"My head hurts," Bonnibel moaned into one of their pillows. The sun was shining through a crack in the curtains, shedding light on a bare freckled back and a pale thigh. Marceline hummed, all too aware of the pounding in her girlfriend's head, snaked her arm around Bonnibel's waist.

"The cotton mouth is real," she grumbled in response, pressing a kiss to whatever bit of skin was in front of her face. "Do we have anything in the fridge that isn't yesterday's takeout and beer?"

"Mmn, don't think so," Bonnibel replied. Marceline cracked an eye open and regretted it immediately when the sunlight hit her directly. She took refuge behind Bonnibel's arm as her head span from the sudden lighting change. "I feel so icky."

"Me too,"

"Wanna take a shower and go out to eat?" Bonnibel finally turned her head, lips quirked up in a smile at the sight of her girlfriend hidden away, face half tucked away beneath the duvet and eyes in a permanent squint. "Fresh air will do us good, you know. Don't have to go too far, somewhere on campus, maybe?"

Marceline responded with a sound kiss, arching her neck for the right angle until it hurt too much, at which point she decided kissing Bonnibel's bare skin was equally as nice. "Sure," she hummed into Bonnibel's arm. "D'you want to get in together or-?" She cut herself off, blushing and hiding her face beneath the duvet once more. Despite them having already been intimate with one another, Marceline still found it blush-worthy to think of Bonnibel in anything less than her clothes. Even something as non-sexual (or sexual, depending on whether or not one of them was in the mood) as taking a shower together made Marceline flustered beyond belief.

So thank god Bonnibel found her awkwardness as endearing as she did. "I mean, unless you have something to do?" She laughed softly, shifting her weight on the bed so she could go back to kissing Marceline lazily. "I was just thinking it'd be quicker, y'know?"

Marceline sighed softly against Bonnibel's lips. "But that'd mean I'd have to stop kissing you." She grumbled, closing her eyes once more to lay in contentment as Bonnibel idly traced circles in the hollow of her waist.

"You can kiss me in the shower," Bonnibel sang against her skin, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as gently as she could, releasing it with a soft 'pop' when she was finished with nibbling at it. "Well, I'm getting in the shower, at least." And she moved away, rolled over to perch at the edge of the bed and check her phone for any text messages from their friends.

Marceline groaned and sat up on one arm, leaning forwards and shifting her hair to trail a few kisses from the top of Bonnibel's spine to her earlobe. "You've convinced me," she grumbled. "I'll go run the water."

Bonnibel gave her a kiss as she stood up and wandered over to their bathroom, stretching before she entered and peeled off her borrowed button up shirt that she'd slept in, kicking off her boxers as she stripped off what little clothing she was already wearing.

The water didn't take long to get hot, and it was damn nice against her already aching skin. Hopefully a shower would help in making them feel better after a night of drinking with friends, and then they'd go and get food and something to drink and maybe their hangovers would subside.

She didn't hear the sound of the door opening and closing softly over the water hitting the base of the shower, but the hand at her waist was expected and Marceline found herself unconsciously leaning into the touch with a pleasant hum.

"I could be a murderer," Bonnibel murmured into her ear with a tut. "I'm a little disappointed in you, Abadeer."

Marceline rolled her eyes. "Oh, please," she huffed, turning to meet Bonnibel's lips. "You'd have broken their jaw if someone came in here while I was showering."

"What if I had already been murdered?"

"Then I wouldn't even fight back, duh." It was Marceline's turn to tut now. "If you're getting murdered then so am I."

"Oh, my god, Marceline," Bonnibel giggled, the sounding bouncing off the walls, Marceline supposed she'd be honestly quite happy if this was her last moment on earth, hearing Bonnibel's laughter and having her fingers trail patterns at her hip bones. "You're such a dramatic."

"You wanted to date me," Marceline pointed out with a kiss. "I was doing just fine with pining over you."

Bonnibel arched a brow, humming as she reached past her girlfriend for the shampoo. "Were you, though? I remember you staring at me a lot, particularly whenever I was wearing something that showed off my legs." Marceline pouted, winding her arms around her girlfriend's shoulders and leaning in for another kiss, only for Bonnibel to dispense the shampoo onto the top of her head. "Your hair was getting greasy," she muttered when Marceline stared at her, confused. "You don't mind."

"Okay, okay," Marceline huffed. "What about you? Where's your special shampoo for the dye?"

"Threw it out," Bonnibel replied simply, massaging Marceline's scalp with her fingertips. God, she was amazing with those hands of hers. Marceline thought she'd be the one with the amazing, magical hands, what with her being a musician and all, but Bonnibel had the dexterity and coordination of a surgeon, knew exactly where her fingers should be and what angle they should be at and Marceline was honestly a little annoyed at how quick it took for Bonnibel to have her be putty in her hands.

"Hmn," Marceline hummed, eyes slipping closed as she leaned her head on her friend's shoulder. "Wait, why?"

"I miss being a redhead," Bonnibel explained. "And you'd be lying if you said you preferred the pink on me."

Marceline smirked. "Drat. You caught me." She cracked an eye open. "Ginger Bonnie reminds me of when I fell in love with my best friend." She admitted softly. "The pink suits you, though, and you'll always be a pale, freckle-y nerd underneath it."

"Gee, thanks babe," Bonnibel rolled her eyes, gently pushing Marceline backwards so that she was back under the water, suds running down her shoulders and back. "I'm also thinking about cutting it again. Shorter than what you've seen, maybe just past past my chin?"

Marceline opened both eyes this time, tilted her head to the side as she imagined her girlfriend with the haircut. "It'd look cute," she nodded. "You gonna let it go curly?"

"You read my mind." Bonnibel said around a smile, tiptoeing around Marceline so that she could make sure the shampoo was out of her hair completely. "It'll probably do that thing where only the ends go curly, though, but I think that will just make it look nicer. And if not, curlers are a thing."

Marceline hummed once more when Bonnibel's hand found itself at a spot on her scalp, just behind her ear. Bonnibel gave it just a little bit more attention than what was needed before she started with her own hair.

Marceline made sure to distract her girlfriend as much as she possibly could before she was promptly kicked from the bathroom, clutching the towel to her chest. The 'I love you' that was called out from behind the door was quite possibly the best thing in the world, even if it did make her head throb a little harder.