#i am confused and befuddled but in the entertaining and fun no

[aayakashii]

Hiii I was thinking a first kiss scenario (❤️21) with Lyca would be fun! Either fluff or smut works :)

21❤️ First kiss

Did I project myself into this? Yes, heavily. So I'm very sorry if some parts of it are too specific skdjdksjs 😭 but here it is!! Very fluffy btw!

You looked to your side and pursed your lips into a thin line so you wouldn’t break into a loud laugh.

Lyca was right by your side, legs crossed while he snuggled one of your pillows, with a bright and furious shade of red on his cheeks, neck and ears.

The poor boy was struggling, but powering through the grueling task he had forced upon himself.

All of that just because he asked you if you two could try to watch a romcom together.

“Why would you ever want to watch a movie like that, Lyca?” you had asked him, befuddled.

He growled, an angry pout plastered on his face.

“The blonde gigolo said I am not strong just because I can barely interact with girls! And he even said I would probably die if I ever watched a romance movie, so I have to prove him wrong!” he clenched his fists, absolutely mad with indignation.

You rolled your eyes. You had to have a serious conversation with Rui about him picking on poor Lyca, because you always ended up mixed into their mess.

“You’re walking right into his trap, Lyca. This will prove absolutely nothing and you will definitely hate it.” you tried putting a little bit of sense into his brain, but he was stubborn.

“But what if he really thinks that?! What if it's not a trap?! I have to prove it to him!”

You let out a loud sigh. There was no convincing him otherwise. He was willingly walking towards his own torture and all you could do was stand beside that dumb werewolf.

And it turns out Rui was almost right. Lyca did look like he was about to spontaneously combust while he watched those romantic scenes. You kept one eye on the movie and one on his reactions, eager to know how he would feel once the kissing scene popped up.

You didn't expect to feel disappointed though.

As the two main characters kissed passionately on the screen, Lyca began staring at the scene with what looked like curiosity. The furious blush was still there, on his cheeks, but more than anything, it looked like the gears in his mind were working overtime.

And then, he turned to you.

“Have you… have you ever kissed someone before?” he asks in a mumble, glaring at you from under his long lashes, like he was ready to fight and not talk.

The question took you by surprise. It wasn't really something you liked talking about, but you also had a weak spot for Lyca. If he was curious about it, then you wouldn't mind answering.

“Just a few times, I guess” you shrugged. You decided not to mention you regretted it mostly every single time. That was the type of talk you didn't really want to have with him, of all people.

Lyca growled and angrily pouted beside you, crossing his arms. Your hand went straight to his hair, scritching his scalp soothingly.

“Why are you mad?”

He grabbed your wrist, withdrawing it from his head. You gave him the sad puppy eyes – trying to use his own weapon against him – but he turned his head away and was adamant in not looking at you.

“Hey, tell me why you're mad. Did I upset you?” you asked, genuinely concerned.

He pouted even more.

“You already had all these experiences.”

You blinked, confused.

“And…?”

“It makes me mad!” he huffed.

You paused to think about his words. A little part of you tried to entertain the thought that he was jealous, but you quickly snuffed that little flame out. Maybe he was upset that you both had similar ages and he hadn't done the same things. That was more likely. But it’s not like his circumstances allowed him to have said experiences, though. Lyca's life was anything but mundane like yours used to be.

You put your hand back on his head again despite his warning growl.

“You don't have to be mad about that. I only did it because people were pressuring me. I have never actually kissed anyone I liked.”

It was a half-truth. Intimacy was actually a very sensitive topic for you. You always watched in horror as colleagues and friends around you had such an easy time mindlessly locking lips with each other. 

For you, it was almost physically impossible even thinking about doing that without caring about the person you'd kiss and consequently, you ended up not kissing anyone for a long, long time. 

Embarrassingly long. 

Eventually, you had forced yourself to get your first experiences out of the way just so you'd stop thinking there was something wrong with you. Obviously, they were all with people who didn't care much about you.

And you didn't exactly regret it. It made you realize that things like that aren't that big of a deal and, honestly,  sometimes it could be a sensory nightmare. So it's not like you'd be missing that much.

But deep, deep inside, you kind of wished you had them with someone you liked and who liked you back.

“Why would you do something you don't like just because of other people?” Lyca had now turned towards you, ears perked up and one eyebrow raised.

You sighed. Sometimes you think that if the world was as simple as Lyca thought it could be, everything would be a lot better.

“I'm sure you've noticed humans are very weird and stupid sometimes. That's another proof of that.” you didn't feel like explaining too much.

He hummed, deep in thought.

Suddenly, as you searched for whatever else he was thinking in his golden irises, you felt anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. Your mind was plagued by the thought of him being kissed by some random and uncaring person and you definitely didn't want him to make the same mistake as you.

“Listen. I don't want you to feel pressured when it comes to these things though.” you blurted out.

He looked at you quizzically, and then scoffed.

“I'm not feeling pressured.” he puffed his chest, as if the thought was unimaginable.

“No, I'm serious.” you tugged his hoodie's sleeve to keep his attention on you. “Even if it's not a big deal, I don't want you to kiss someone you don't like.”

He stared at you.

“Why?”

You felt your cheeks get warmer under his gaze.

“... Because I want you to have good memories. I want you to be able to remember most of your experiences fondly. I don't want you to regret anything nor feel hurt.”

Lyca stared at you, thinking. He had no problem with making eye contact even when he wasn't speaking and it served to make you even more embarrassed. Were you crossing a line? You were extremely protective of him, but he never asked any of that from you. What if you were just meddling in his business and annoying him? What if you were being a hurdle he had to cross over in order to feel more like a human? What if–

“Can you do it then?” Lyca suddenly said, snapping you out of your thoughts

You looked at him, eyes wide. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“What?”

“I wouldn't mind if you were the one who kissed me for the first time. I don't think I would regret it.” he said, scratching his head and, finally, breaking eye contact. 

He was embarrassed.

You blinked fast a few times, trying to gather your thoughts.

“A-are… are you sure?”

He dropped his arm to his side and nodded, serious as ever.

“Uhum. I am sure.”

“Don't you want to save it and do it with someone you like?”

“I like you.”

Oh god. Oh GOD.

“N-no, Lyca, I mean-”

“You don't want to kiss me?”

You rubbed your face with your hands, feeling how hot your skin was, and groaned.

“It's not that! I do want to- to kiss you! It's just-”

“Then do it.” he said, as matter-of-factly as he could possibly say.

You sighed and shifted in your seat.

“Are you sure?” you asked again. He rolled his eyes.

“I already said I am.”

“But are you REALLY sure?”

Lyca began growling, his wolf ears going flat against his head.

“I am sure!”

“Okay, then” you gulped, straightening your back and gathering all the courage you had inside “I'll have to come closer, okay?”

“Okay.” he nodded, also sitting up straight and watching your every movement.

You tentatively reached your hands towards Lyca's cheeks. He flinched as you touched him and you mouthed an apology before cupping them gently. You could feel how warm his skin was getting as you got closer and closer to his face.

His eyes were wide, and his shaky breath fanned your skin as your lips were barely apart.

When you locked your lips against his, it felt like he was melting under your touch – you felt his shoulders sagging and he unconsciously placed his hands on your waist.

It didn't feel like any kiss you had before. He was clearly clumsy and didn't know what to do (and, honestly, neither did you), but the warmth of his body embraced you gently and, when you glided your hands to his neck, you could feel the fast and loud drum of his heart under your fingertips – it was so endearing, it made you dizzy.

As you softly sucked on his bottom lip, you wondered why it all felt so sweet – were you falling for him? –, but right as you began thinking too much about it, he let out a little gasp that scrambled every coherent thought.

You brought him closer to you and pressed your lips flush against his, squeezing his shoulders with your hands before letting go and finally pushing him away. You didn't want to cross any boundaries by deepening the kiss without his consent, after all. Just touching him without having him bite your hand off was a huge achievement, so the kiss felt like a trophy.

Once you opened your eyes, Lyca was already watching you with pupils blown wide; his golden iris was barely visible and he stared at you, wide-eyed and breathless.

“Lyca! You're supposed to close your eyes when you kiss.” you playfully tapped the top of his head.

His face was scarlet red and he hid it behind the sleeve of his hoodie.

“We-well, you have to tell me that first!”

You sighed, smiling at his embarrassment, but you were sure you didn't look much different.

As you tried to calm your own racing heart, a loud thump-thump-thump caught your attention, and you peeked behind Lyca.

You gasped, trying to suppress a giggle.

His tail was wagging wildly, hitting the couch in a steady rhythm.

“I guess I don't really need to ask if you liked the kiss, do I?” You teased him, hiding how big your smile was with your hands.

“ARGH” he pushed his tail down, trying to immobilize it. “Shut up!”

You didn't know if he was talking to you or to his own tail. You let your arms fall to your sides.

“Hey, it's okay, I really liked the kiss, you know? Don’t be embarrassed.” you said, between chuckles.

He stared at you wide-eyed, searching your face for any hint of a lie or of a joke. When he couldn't find any of that, his tail began wagging once again, much to his dismay.

“T-thank you.” he grumbled, again avoiding your eyes.

Right then, as you watched him blush and fidget on his seat, you thought that maybe you could say that was your very own first kiss as well.

[fanfic-obsessed]

I am sure I will have ideas for other parts but for this specifically:

-actually i think it would be very funny if Obi-Wan showed up literally right after Endor, while they’re all having their celebration. Vader is there. Cody is hovering menacingly right behind Luke, who is trying to get his Dad and his Father to get along (Cody is confused because as far as he knows, he and his commanding officer are on perfectly cordial terms)

-Cody’s like “oh HEY obiwan” and immediately tries to kill him because technically speaking no one ever revoked order 66

First of all this is the most cordial murder attempt Obi Wan has ever had (considering the amount of people who tried to kill him who ended up his freinds later, or friends who tried to kill him, or was Hondo Ohnaka-who defied categorization- that is saying something). Like Cody is shooting at him while cheerfully reporting on Luke's life(Both becasue Obi Wan was also a superior officer once and Cody will take any chance to brag about Luke) and talking about how nice to see Obi Wan again, how has he been, etc. Obi Wan is dodging and answering, asking questions of his own. Vader is standing off to one side, wishing for popcorn and a little befuddled.

Obi Wan, in between trying to find Luke, has actually been living on Alderaan and training Leia (Alderaan was not destroyed here because Vader heard a rumor that Luke and cody were on the planet and so he sabotaged the DS himself, Luke still destroyed it though). Leia is also there and the only reason she is not interfearing is Obi Wan/Ben seems to be having fun? At least after the first couple of shots.

At some point Luke tries to get Cody to stop, only to be told that he is following orders. Luke turns to Vadere to get those orders rescinded. Vader says, '...but this is entertaining and Obi Wan left me limbless and burning. Watching him get shot at by his former Commander (lover if you are a Codywan fan like me) is very theraputic'.

To which Obi Wan responds, both exasperated and more that a bit breathless (he is not as young as he once was and he had been dodging blaster fire while chatting for an hour already), that he is sorry but that Vader/Anakin had just killed the younglings and to be fair he thought he had left him for dead, not left him for a torture suit.

Luke turns these absolutely killer tooka eyes on Vader, 'you killed children?'

And Vader sputters for a bit going, "...look..." and "it was a bad set of days for all involved ok?" and "hey, a few of those younglings bit me when I was babysitting in the creche, ok?"

Luke's tooka eyes keep getting bigger and sadder. Cody's shooting has slowed as he starts twitching toward Luke, like he needs to hug him only to pick up again when he looks back Obi Wan.

Finally Vader sighs and recinds Order 66.

They’re having a very serious conversation about Cody’s behaviour (being mean to uncle Ben)

[bookwyrminspiration]

Shbob nob job

I am trying to make meaning out of madness here, Nonsie. What does this mean? Is there a meaning? Is the only meaning the one I make it out to have? is this a test? To see what I'll do? Am I simply a vessel for your amusement, you providing me with nonsense to watch me run around in circles in search of patterns, in search of meaning?

If I write it backwards this says "boj bon bobhs" which doesn't have any meaning, except google translate says it means "Bose is the sister" in Bangla, however I doubt that's what you were trying to say or that google translate is accurate.

If we look at it backwards it's alliterative as well, so perhaps you're going for a BBB theme. In which case, what does BBB mean? The Better Business Bureau? Big Booty Bitches? Those are two very different things and if you're trying to communicate about one of them you're really putting a lot of faith in my ability to figure out which one

If the letters are rearranged they can spell hobnobs if you don't use all the letters, which is apparently a type of cookie according to the internet. I have never seen a hobnob before in my life. Google says they're british. The letters can also spell BB Johns Boob if you use all of them. That probably wasn't what you were going for either

Or perhaps you're trying to communicate a number to me. The letter s is used 1 time, h 1 time, b is used 4 times, o 3 times, n 1 time, and j one time. So if you put the number of occurrences of each letter in the order the letter appears you get 114311 if you don't repeat the letters. If you put them in alphabetical order you get 411131. 114311 is apparently the number of an asteroid discovered in 2002, hence it being called/referred to as 2002 XY52 if I'm understanding this site right. Then 411131 is another asteroid discovered in 2003, but it's apparently called 2009 WA216, so I don't know what's going on there. Is this what your message is, Nonsie? Are you trying to give me very obscure information about asteroids?

what's happening here what am I supposed to do with this message, how am i supposed to interpret this. There are so many other things you could be trying to communicate

anyway thanks for the ask hope you have a nice whatever time of day it is where you are!

[chudleycanonficfest]

Washing Machine Heart

Day 22, Story #2 is by @rosequartzstarswrites​

Title: Washing Machine Heart Author/Artist: rosequartzstars - @rosequartzstarswrites (Because of Tumblr settings, this is posting from my main blog, but it’s me!) Pairing: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (and background Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger) Prompt: 5+1 Rating: T (only for some strong language and non-explicit insinuations) Trigger Warning(s) (if any): none apply! 

“I can’t believe I’m going through with this,” huffed Hermione, struggling to keep up the brisk pace Ron was marking on the sidewalk.

“You never believed you’d have to, did you?” Ron said gleefully, seemingly unaware of just how hard his long-legged strides were to keep up with.

“You never told me you were that good at chess!”

“No, more like you never thought anyone could be better than you at anything!”

Despite only having been friends, close friends, with them for a semester, Harry had already become accustomed to the constant bickering between Ron and Hermione, to the point even of endearment. Coming from the Dursleys’, arguments and rebukes were something he was used to, but the undertone of friendship with which Ron and Hermione faced off was a welcome change (and a very entertaining one). Still, he tended to side quietly with Ron, and this particular time was no exception: part of him was delighted at the prospect of seeing Hermione get a tattoo.

This had all started from a ridiculous bet, born of boredom in the lounge of their dorm building. Ron had eyed the communal chessboard, battered and chipped from years of usage, and challenged Hermione to a match.

Hermione had scoffed: “Only if you want to lose, Ron.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Ron had said, exchanging a look with Harry as a sly smile crept onto his lips.

“I’m completely certain.”

“Certain enough to bet?” Ron had prodded her.

The competitiveness that, before becoming friends, was all Harry had known of Hermione had flared up in her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“When you lose—”

“If I lose, and I won't—”

“When you lose,” Ron had reiterated, “you have to get a tattoo of my choosing.”

Hermione had smirked. “Game on.”

In Hermione’s defense, Harry thought, she hadn’t ever considered she might lose. There really was no way of expecting how good Ron had turned out to be at chess, especially since —Harry thought— Hermione had based her certainty on how abysmal his grades were, against her own straight A’s, in their proofs-based mathematics class, which relied entirely on strength of reasoning. But, as it turned out, Ron was actually a master logician, if only somewhat lazy at his math classes, and this he had proved by absolutely obliterating Hermione with the fastest checkmate Harry had ever borne witness to.

And that is how they had come to find themselves out on the streets of their little college town that night, wrapped in their scarves and their winter coats to battle the first of the December chill, walking to a tattoo parlor Ron knew in the area so Hermione could be forever reminded of her loss by a tattoo Ron would choose. And if Harry knew Ron well, and knew how much he relished teasing Hermione, the reminder would be a strong one.

“I didn’t even want a tattoo,” Hermione was mumbling, more to herself than at either of them. “I never wanted one— did you know that you might not be eligible to donate blood if you have a tattoo? I mean, not that it’s impossible, but it’s a factor against you, like your weight and your age. And my family has a history of needing transfusions— oh, God, what if my grandfather needs a donation, like, tomorrow? The three-month period of eligibility won’t have elapsed, and my father can’t donate, and– and–” She froze in the middle of the sidewalk. “Oh, God, have I killed my grandfather?”

“Relax, Hermione,” Ron said, throwing a fraternal arm around her shoulders and squeezing her half in an attempt to get her walking again. “You’re halfway across the country from home. You wouldn’t be able to fly out on such short notice anyway.”

Harry had to stifle a laugh at how Hermione gaped at Ron then, a billion other dire possibilities to worry about racing through her head now. Ron, however, was less successful at keeping down a chuckle. “I’m kidding, Hermione. Besides, a tattoo will make you look badass.”

“I don’t want to look badass!” Hermione squeaked shrilly. “I’ve never been remotely interested in looking badass!”

“Well, interested or not,” Ron said as they came up to a dark brick building with a neon sign reading LOVEGOOD’S flickering above the door, “it seems like you don’t have much of a choice, because we’re here.”

Hermione let out a noise that sounded somewhere between a gasp and a whine as she looked up at the storefront that, to her, was synonymous not only with her doom but apparently that of her grandfather.

“Ron, please?” she said meekly.

Ron, however, looked gleeful and would not be deterred. “A bet’s a bet,” he declared, grabbing her wrist and beginning to march her up the three or so stairs that led up to the door of the tattoo parlor from the sidewalk. Harry lingered behind for an instant, watching the backs of his two friends as they waddled up the stairs, smiling as he listened to Ron debate whether he would make Hermione get a skull or a sailor’s “Mom” arrow-pierced heart, and Hermione pleading shrilly with him not to do either of those things. Watching them, Harry’s smile widened. He was lucky to have them as friends, that much he knew, despite the short time he’d spent knowing them. Why he hadn’t found them his freshman year was beyond him— but now, now that he had these wacky outings and constant bickering to enjoy, he felt overwhelmingly lucky that they had found him.

“Harry, are you coming in or what?” Ron beckoned him. He had stopped on the topmost step and was still gripping Hermione, whose face was a mask of pure, crystallized terror.

“Absolutely,” Harry said, hurrying up the steps with a little hop. “This I’ve got to see.”

Ron pushed open the door to the parlor with a little too much gusto, and Hermione cringed at the metallic sound of the chimes above the door as they tinkled with the announcement of their entrance. The front of the shop, sealing off the rest with a counter that had seen better days, was empty, the backroom separated by a beaded curtain.

“Hellooo?” Ron called into the backroom, marching right up to the counter. “Is anybody here? We bring a very eager customer!”

Hermione began to protest, but just as she did, an employee came out of the backroom to stand behind the counter. Catching a glimpse of her, Harry felt as if the wind had been knocked out of his chest: she was stunning. She was tall and slender, her toned arms visible through the ripped-off sleeves of her vintage Hole tee, with a curtain of straight orange hair pulled back into a long high ponytail. Her bright brown eyes glimmered atop a button-like nose that matched her small, round mouth perfectly, the pale fine face finished by a spattering of freckles. Even before she had spoken a single word, Harry felt the confidence coming off of her in waves, simply by how she propped her elbows up on the counter and eyed their party somewhat playfully. He was frozen to his place with the sight of her, hoping his jaw hadn’t dropped as low as it had felt in the wake of his awe.

Upon seeing her, however, Ron had had exactly the opposite reaction. “Ginny?” he said incredulously.

“What are you doing here?” the woman —Ginny— said without any greeting, returning Ron’s frown.

“I thought you weren’t working today!”

“I’m covering a shift for Demelza, she had a gyn appointment today.”

“Well, if I knew that, I wouldn’t have come in,” grumbled Ron. The tips of his ears were beginning to pink, a sign Harry had learned to recognize as a hint of extreme emotion in his friend.

“Well, you’re here now, so… what can I do for you?” Ginny said. “I mean, you can’t possibly be the one getting inked, Ron. You’re too much of a wimp.”

“Shut up, or I’m telling mom you got your helix pierced. That’ll make for a fun Christmas greeting when we’re back home, I’ll wager.”

Then the similarity became apparent to Harry: the freckles, the aggressive red of their hair, the same glint in their eyes… Ginny was Ron’s sister. Somehow, he didn’t know whether that was something he should feel good or bad about.

“Tattletale,” Ginny said, swatting at him. “And it’s called an industrial piercing. Not that you’d know.” Only then did she seem to remark on the rest of the party.

“Harry Potter,” she said, and Harry gulped as she crossed her muscular arms over her chest and leaned back, surveying him. “Come to get a sixth tattoo?”

“A sixth— how do you know?” Harry said, befuddled. Out of all the opening lines he would’ve expected her to use, this had not been one of them.

“You can credit the rumor mill at school,” Ginny shrugged, still eyeing him with interest. “You’re a topic of interest. Or at least among the soccer teams.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Romilda swore you had a griffin tattooed on your chest, but I told her I’d heard it was a dragon. Much more macho, I thought.”

“Thanks,” Harry said dully. What else was he supposed to say?

“Don’t mention it,” Ginny gave him a conspiratorial wink. “And if I were you, I’d find out who on the boys’ team has been giving you the eye in the shower enough to count your tats. I bet it’s Ron.”

“It’s not!” Ron said angrily, the red from his ears bleeding out onto his cheeks.

“I bet it is,” Ginny mouthed to Harry, giving him another wink. “But it’s not you?”

“Pardon?” said Harry, for whom the ‘it-is-it’s-not’ exchange had grown somewhat confusing.

“For the tattoo?” Ginny said, and Harry felt like an idiot. “It’s not you who’s getting it?”

“No, ah, actually— it’s Hermione,” Harry was knocked back into his senses as he gestured toward Hermione, who had stood, utterly baffled, throughout that whole exchange.

“Hermione Granger?” Ginny said, and Harry was almost glad when she turned her gaze away from him and toward Hermione. “As in, Scamander Fellow Hermione Granger?”

“The one and only,” Ron declared proudly, happy to be back off a topic that bothered him (teasing Ron) and back on a topic that delighted him (teasing Hermione).

“I wouldn’t have chalked you up to the tattoo type,” Ginny said.

“Oh, she’s not,” Ron said, his face lighting up as if Christmas had come early.

Ginny’s eyes darted between the dismal face of Hermione and the cheerful face of Ron, her eyebrows rising as she took it in. “Okay, I’m not going to ask about whatever this is. What am I doing on you?”

“I’m designing it,” Ron said brightly. And if Harry had thought that Hermione’s face couldn’t get more desolated, he’d been wrong.

“Christ, Hermione, what has he got on you?” Ginny said, already opening a drawer on the counter to pull out a sketchpad and a pen.

“I’m such an idiot,” Hermione grumbled.

Ron pored over the sketchpad, shielding the paper from Hermione’s eyes as he sketched. When he was done, he handed it to Ginny with a quick flick of the wrist that, much to Hermione’s dismay, ensured she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of what was on it. Ginny looked over whatever it was Ron had drawn and then looked up at her brother with a frown.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, then,” Ginny shrugged. She lifted the counter to open a gap through which Hermione could walk. “Follow me.”

Looking like a lamb led to the slaughter, Hermione looked up to heaven as if making one last, futile plea before scrunching up her nose and following Ginny through the beaded curtain to the backroom. Because yes, she hated the idea of getting a tattoo, but she hated the idea of letting Ron hold one over her even more.

Ron watched her leave delightedly, relishing in the jangle the beaded curtain made as it swallowed Ginny and Hermione into the backroom. “This is going to be good,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Oh, this is going to be so good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Harry blurted out all of a sudden. He startled himself as much as Ron when he said it, though he was glad he’d been able to pare down the question from what was actually swirling around in his head: Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister that looked like THAT?

Ron looked at him and shrugged. “I don’t know. It never came up.”

“You told me about every other one of your five brothers, but not the sister.”

“Nope.”

“Not the sister that seems to be about our age.”

“Nope.”

“Not the sister that seems to be about our age and plays soccer.“ And is hot.

"Nope.” Ron paused and frowned. “She’s a year below us, anyway.”

“Oh, then that explains it,” Harry said sarcastically.

“It seemed like more of a second-semester-of-friendship revelation.”

“I see.”

Harry held the silence between them for a few moments more before he allowed the next question out. “She plays soccer?”

“One more of the long line of Weasleys that get athletic scholarships to Hogwarts College. Except for Percy— no, he was a disgrace, he got in on an academic grant.”

“The family disappointment, truly.”

Harry wanted to ask more about Ginny, but he held his tongue. His friendship with Ron was the most precious thing his sophomore year of college had yielded him, and he didn’t want to jeopardize it by prying further or making it seem like he had the hots for his sister. Even though he did. He suffocated that small voice at the back of his mind: he hadn’t even spoken properly to Ginny, just stood there like an idiot and let her quip freely about his tattoos— which, mind him, apparently were fodder for locker talk back at Hogwarts.

The buzz of the needle in the backroom as it started up brought Harry out of his thoughts, just in time to see a shit-eating grin appear on Ron’s face.

“I wish I could see her face right now,” he said gleefully, and Harry let himself stop thinking about Ginny to join Ron in picturing what Hermione Granger must look like seated in a tattoo parlor chair.

“It really wasn’t so bad,” admitted Hermione as they exited the tattoo parlor and went down the little steps back onto the sidewalk.

Despite his pretensions of malice, Ron’s nobility (which had never been in question, even despite his teasing) had shone through and yielded a considerably modest tattoo: a small, capital “R” in his own handwriting. Hermione, who had almost cried with relief after Ginny showed her the design, had chosen to get it on her left thigh, on the side and at the very top, right under her hipbone.

“Why did you get it there?” Harry asked as they resumed their brisk walk back to campus.

“It’s not a place you usually show. That means if a sleeve shifts or an interviewer sees, I don’t know, my ankle or something, they won’t notice it.”

“As if a tiny ‘R’ would disqualify anyone from a job, let alone you,” snorted Ron.

“Professionalism is a virtue, Ronald,” Hermione huffed, though her cheeks had gone red. “Besides, since that part of me is always covered, I’ll save myself from having to explain the story behind it to anyone that spots it.”

“Yeah, except the bloke that eventually undresses you and sees you in your panties. Try explaining what that 'R’ means to him,” said Ron. But Harry suspected Hermione wouldn’t have to: from how Ron’s eyes had widened and his gaze had lingered when Hermione had pulled down the side of her jeans ever so slightly to show them the finished product, exposing a sliver of her underwear, Harry could almost wager that Ron would be the bloke in question.

They walked in animated chatter for the rest of the way, the tattoo forgotten until Ron made a quip about Hermione now having crossed the gateway to joining a biker gang and Hermione going positively beet-red in the face with outrage. Then Harry, his hands in his pockets, simply smirked to himself and resigned himself to their bickering for the rest of the walk, knowing he was no longer needed in their exchange. Instead, he let his mind drift to Ginny. She hadn’t really spoken to him again, merely ducking out from the beaded curtain backroom and instructing Hermione on how to take care of her tattoo, saying only a general goodbye to the three of them as they exited the shop. There had been nothing in Ginny’s manner to suggest that she might be thinking of him as strongly, as irremediably, as he was of her, and yet there he was.

The main quad was mostly deserted, except for a few scattered groups of late-night library frequenters or sneaking couples, as the three of them crossed it to get to their dorm. Ron and Hermione didn’t stop arguing as they climbed the four flights up to their floor (the elevator, as usual, was broken), and only broke it off because Hermione reached her room before the boys reached theirs, slipping inside it and shutting the door before Ron had a chance to get the last word in.

“Well, that went well,” Ron shrugged as he and Harry kept walking down the hall to their room.

“You actually got her to get a tattoo,” Harry said with some admiration as they reached their door.

Ron grinned as he swiped the key card. “I may drive her crazy, but if anyone was going to get her to do something like that, it was going to be me.”

Ron pushed the door open and let them into their dorm room. He closed the door and, without taking off his coat, immediately flopped onto his bed— or, well, what could be seen of the bed under mountains of dirty or otherwise discarded clothes. Away from his mother’s chore-mongering for the first time, Ron had let himself go wild and go to the other extreme, but even Harry had to admit that the army of socks draped over the foot of his bed was beginning to smell a little stale.

“So,” Ron said, propping his head up, “no parties tonight?”

“Well, it’s a Wednesday,” Harry said.

“So what? There’s no party spirit around here?”

“Ron, it’s the last Wednesday before final exams. People are studying.”

“I wasn’t aware I was rooming with Hermione,” Ron grumbled. Harry had to admit she might have gotten to him a little. However, Ron’s irritation was short-lived, a grin appearing on his face again. “Wait, but we’re not people. We’re not studying.”

Harry surveyed the room and, despite his desire to throw in the towel for the night and have fun with Ron, felt a pang of dismay at just how much grosser it would be if they caved and did that (last time they had, they’d had a Pringle-eating contest, with devastating results for their sheets, which still had some crumbs). “No, Ron. We’re doing laundry.”

Ron groaned. “Jeez, now I’m rooming with my mother.”

“Okay, fine, you don’t have to do the laundry. I’ll do it for the both of us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go hang out with Dean and Seamus or whatever, see if you can get Hermione to do her second wild-card act of the day and make her stop studying to hang out with the guys.”

“Now I’m a man with a mission,” Ron said, perking up in delight at the prospect of teasing Hermione, or even seeing her once more that night.

“Just shove your clothes in the laundry bag before you go, won’t you? I don’t want to touch your nasty briefs more than I have to.”

Ron obliged, tossing all the clothes on and around his bed into his orange laundry bag and pulling the drawstring to close it. “I’ll update you on the Hermione thing,” he said cheerfully, hurrying out of the room and down the hall to the left to the room they’d left Hermione in.

Harry laughed to himself, wondering how long it was going to take Ron to realize why exactly he always seemed so eager to do anything Hermione-related, as he too threw his dirty clothes into a checkered drawstring laundry bag. Then, he hoisted one sack over each of his shoulders and opened the door using his ankle and leg to let himself out, his hands full with the laundry bags. He stifled a smirk as he passed Hermione’s room and heard the familiar bubbling sound of she and Ron rowing. If Harry knew her at all, he knew however much she might argue she’d be out of that room in an hour tops.

He groaned as he looked down the stairs, and rued the day he had been placed in the dorm with the shittiest elevator on campus. Resigning himself, he began to walk slowly down the poorly-lit stairs to the basement, where the laundry room was. However inconvenient this descent was, Harry was at least comforted with the knowledge that the laundry room would not be crowded, which would be the greater inconvenience once the elevator was fixed.

The basement was even dimmer, the white lights flickering and buzzing with electricity as Harry walked to the laundry room almost at the end of the hall. Sure enough, the laundry room was deserted, oddly quiet with none of the familiar hum and rattle of the machines as they worked. Harry knelt in front of a washing machine and began unloading the contents of the laundry bags into it, cramming them in so they’d fit because he sure as hell wasn’t shelling out quarters for two washers. When he’d made it all fit (which had involved the use of force to jam the door shut), he went to the shelf that held the communal detergent and poured it into the soap compartment. With that done, he dug out eight quarters from his pocket and inserted them into the washer’s slot, pressing the “Start Cycle” button when he heard the clink that let him know his quarters had been accepted. The washer rumbled slowly to life, jets of water trickling out as it began to spin in one direction and then the other, and it was a couple minutes before it was spinning at a hearty pace.

Rising from his crouch (he had always liked to watch the washing machine as it booted up to wash in earnest), Harry took the laundry bags and turned to head back upstairs, already thinking of what he might do to pass the time in the hour he had before he had to switch the clothes to the dryer.

He was so caught up in thinking of this that he didn’t see the person entering the laundry room at the same time as he was exiting, which ended in an awkward clash between them.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry blurted.

“No, it’s fine, I’m sorry too— Harry?”

Only then did Harry realize who he had bumped into, and only because she kept standing there did he believe it. “Ginny?”

She still wore her Hole shirt, but had discarded the ripped jeans, combat boots, and round-the-waist flannel he’d seen at the tattoo parlor. Instead, she wore frayed gray sweatpants and flip-flops, her hair pulled up from the long ponytail into a messy bun. She, however, somehow still managed to look almost unbearably beautiful. What’s happening to me?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, the only thing he could think of right that second. Spotting the laundry basket she was cradling, he added: “No laundry in your dorm?”

“No, yeah, there is one, but it’s always too crowded, it being a freshman dorm and all.” Harry nodded: his first year, he too had done entirely more laundry than he had to, and was thankful by the quarters he saved just by realizing he could wear a pair of pants more than once before they were dirty. “So I use the one here. Much quieter. I know Ron’s ID and password—”

“You do?”

“He gave it to me once so I could pick up his books from the library. And my memory’s great.” She gave him a half smile and looked beyond him at the laundry room. “Doing laundry?”

“No, I just like the ambience down here. The shitty lighting and bleach smell are really my style,” said Harry. Ginny laughed, and Harry felt a rush of pride at what was probably the first witty thing he’d ever said to her. “Need a hand?”

“I’d appreciate one, sure,” Ginny said, again smiling at him. Harry moved so she could walk into the laundry room, and watched her pick one of the washing machines that lined the wall. When she’d settled on one, he crouched down next to her and help her lob the clothes into the maw of the machine.

“Tattoo parlor let out early?” he asked as they placed the clothes inside.

“More like you guys came in really late. You were my last customers— I just cleaned up and closed after you left.”

“And you work there?”

“Sure beats a regular work-study, doesn’t it?” Ginny grinned. She tossed in a Tide pod that was left at the bottom of the basket, closed the door to the machine, and rose to find the quarters needed to activate it. “Oh, shoot, I left my wallet in my other pants—”

“I got you,” said Harry, digging for eight more quarters in his pocket. For once, he was glad of his bad habit of carrying an excess of loose change in his jeans, something Hermione already got on to him about (sometimes, like when she’d gifted him a money purse, not too subtly).

“Thanks,” Ginny said, picking the laundry basket up from the ground.

Harry listened for the telling clink and then pressed the button. The washing machine whirred to a start, but for once, Harry didn’t feel compelled to watch it boot up: instead, he turned to Ginny. “So how did you come to work there?”

“At the tat shop?” Ginny asked, hopping to sit on the top of the washer where her clothes were spinning. “My friend Luna’s dad, Xenophilius—”

“Gesundheit.”

“Shut up,” Ginny said, but the hint of a laugh was (to Harry’s satisfaction) visible on her lips again. “Anyway, Xenophilius owns the place. He set up in a college town because he knows college is the first time kids are truly free to make rash, impulse decisions.”

“Like getting a tattoo?”

“Exactly. And besides, all the college students love his New Age bullshit, they think it’s very 70s, so his shop is always full. He got a big boost after he started placing crystals in the shop windows.”

“He’s in with the kids, then?”

“Don’t tell him that, he’ll be mortified. But he’s great, really. A little eccentric, but great. He knows me from when Luna and I took an art class together in 10th grade, and he’s always complimented my art, so he helped me get my tattoo artist license as soon as I turned 18 and hired me.”

“Is Luna the girl with the shaggy blond hair and the weird glasses?”

“That’s her. Though I’m surprised you didn’t know her by her bottlecap necklaces. That’s usually what people comment on.”

“Does she work there too?”

“Yeah, though not as an inker, she’s useless with a needle. She designs a big chunk of the tattoos, though, both original designs and commissions or requests.”

“That’s awesome,” Harry said. He realized that was the first time through the whole conversation that he had stopped. He’d never hesitated on what to say next: conversation with Ginny had flowed easily, naturally, and he hadn’t had to think too hard to keep it going. Still, he was a little disappointed that it had stopped. Ginny, however, seemed to share in this, because rather than say goodbye and take her leave, she opened up a new topic.

“So how long have you and Ron been friends?”

“Er– since the start of this school year, actually.”

“Really? You’d think from how he talks about you, he’d known you forever.” Harry felt a flush of happiness at hearing that Ron talked about him.

“Well, I got him for a roommate this year, and we just clicked. Then it turned out we had a lot of the same classes. And we’re both on the soccer team, so it just got better from there.”

“It seems strange that you never crossed paths your freshman year.”

Harry shrugged. “I mean, freshman year is weird for everyone. I certainly felt like I was just bouncing from one place to another. I still hang out with a lot of the guys from last year, but my friends have changed. It makes sense— the first year, everyone is trying to meet as many people as possible, as if it’s a race, but by sophomore year you know more of what you want and what you’re looking for. In a way, I’m glad I met Ron now that I’m in a more stable place, now that I know my way around the college and have a better grip on things. I have a feeling he’s a friend I’m gonna keep.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re sticking around the Weasleys,” Ginny said, and Harry felt a tingle run up his spine. Was she… flirting with him? “And Hermione?”

“Oh, Hermione’s great, Ron and I would be dead by now if not for her— I don’t know how I got through a full year without her.”

“But she’s very different from you guys, isn’t she?”

“Well— on the surface, sure, but not in the things that matter. The fact that she went through with the tattoo tonight when she could’ve kicked up a fuss and bailed out tells you all you need to know.”

“So what I’m hearing is that Scamander Fellow Hermione Granger is as much of a bonehead as my brother at heart?”

“Stubborn, is the word I’d use. And only when Ron’s involved, actually.”

Ginny smirked. “Idiots. They haven’t even realized it.”

Harry knew exactly what she meant. “You think it too?”

“Oh, I’d bet on it. Ten bucks says they’re together by the end of the year.”

“Hey, did our visit by the parlor today teach you nothing about bets? They can be dangerous.”

“But I’m betting against you, aren’t I?” The way she said you made Harry’s heart skip a beat. “Fine, not ten bucks. But I’ll bet you a load of laundry, how’s that?”

“Deal,” said Harry, taking Ginny’s extended hand to shake it. The touch of her palm, with its long, slender fingers, sent warmth coursing down from his hand and the length of his arm. They let go and dropped hands, and perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but Harry thought he detected a certain reluctance in Ginny as they did.

Harry leaned against the washer, his propped elbow almost brushing up against her thigh. “How about you? How’s your first year going so far?”

Ginny winced. “As well as you’d expect, I suppose. Lots of people still behave like it’s an extension of high school, and I’m very much over that. But as things go, I’m having a blast. Being on the soccer team certainly helps.”

“Congratulations on that scholarship, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said, her wide smile revealing a row of perfect, square white teeth. “You’re on a scholarship too, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. My aunt and uncle would’ve never paid a single cent for me to go to college, so it was the only way. But I’m sure they were glad to be rid of me anyway.”

“They sound like lovely people,” Ginny said sarcastically.

“I should introduce them to this Xenophilius sometime. My uncle Vernon would have a stroke just walking into that shop.”

“Well, if you ever swing by, you have an insider contact,” Ginny offered, and Harry loved the implication of something, even something as simple as an 'insider contact’, between just the two of them. “I’d be happy to arrange a meeting, especially for such esteemed patrons.”

“I might take you up on that, if I ever planned on seeing them again,” Harry said. The words came out a bit more harshly than he’d expected, and the second silence in their talk set in, brought on by the darker implications of his family situation. Desperate to break it, Harry cleared his throat and geared up to talk again: “So, do you have any tattoos?”

He was relieved to see the smile, that coy, almost lopsided smile, appear on Ginny’s face again. “Actually, no, not a single one.”

“Do you think you’d ever get one?”

Ginny thought for a second. “I might, if something meaningful enough came around. And only if I was 200% sure. But really, I feel like one tattoo would lead to another, and then I’d never stop and run out of room on my skin. So it’s more of a containment mechanism, really.”

Harry smirked. “Hm. Interesting.”

Ginny broke out onto a full grin as she watched him. “What?” she asked, but when Harry’s smirk only deepened, she shoved him playfully, her touch on his shoulders eliciting the same warm sensation as the handshake. “What, Potter, tell me! Why is it interesting?”

“I mean, since you work at a tattoo shop, and you’re wearing a Hole t-shirt, I just thought you might be the type—”

“The Hole tee? Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna gatekeep it, like you’re the type of guy who’d be like 'name three songs'—”

“No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I don’t know a lot of music by Hole. I really only know who they are because of that one Fall Out Boy song Courtney Love was featured in—”

Ginny winced. “Not Fall Out Boy, please.”

“Why? What’s wrong with Fall Out Boy?”

“Harry—”

“I know they get a lot of shit, but really, their first albums are pretty good—”

“Harry, you’ve gotta stop right here, or you’re going to make me stop finding you so attractive.”

And just like that, there it was, out in the open. Harry felt stun: he felt his mouth open to offer a witty retort, but no words came out. Because the girlish grin had evaporated from Ginny’s face and turned into a different, more mature look, her eyes smoldering slightly and her mouth slightly pouted.

“What about you?” she asked, her words slower, as if she was choosing each one individually. “If the soccer team gossip is true, I know you have five tattoos.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice having dropped as well. “Yeah, there were a few tat shops around my neighborhood where the rules were pretty lax.”

“What are they?” Ginny asked.

“The tattoos? Well, the first ones I ever got were my mom and dad’s birth and death dates, on my wrist,” Harry said, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to display two small lines of numbers, in plain black ink, on his forearm.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ginny said softly.

“Don’t be, I was really small when it happened. But I still wanted to pay them homage. Anyway, I’ll not bore you with my family history right now.”

“But tell me sometime?”

Harry was ecstatic at the implication that Ginny wanted to spend even more time with him. “Yeah,” he said, smiling at her. “Yeah, I will.” He moved on to the second tattoo, shifting the other sleeve up a bit to show Ginny a small black paw print in the center of his wrist. “This was my third one. My godfather was the only person my aunt and uncle would let me see while I was growing up, and even then only because he threatened them. And he had this huge, black shaggy dog, I think it was a Newfoundland, that looked almost like a bear, named Padfoot. I loved that dog, and every time I think of the happiest moments growing up, Padfoot’s in a lot of them. So when he died when I was sixteen, I got this to remember him by. It seems like a tribute to my godfather, too, so I like it doubly.”

He didn’t need encouragement from Ginny to keep going. He raised his left leg and propped it up on the washing machine by where Ginny’s legs hung, rolling his sock down a bit to show a green, line-art tuft of grass snaking above his ankle. “I got this when I got the soccer scholarship to come here. I wanted something to commemorate soccer, seeing as it’s not only, y'know, my passion, but also what got me out of that damn house for good. But I thought something like a soccer ball or a net or even the pitch outline would be too cheesy, so I got a bit of grass, y'know, as in the field…”

“Tasteful,” Ginny nodded her approval, and Harry felt newfound appreciation for that tattoo. “That’s three down, Potter.”

“I’m getting there.” Harry brought his leg down from the washer and turned his back to Ginny, taking his hand up to the nape of his neck and using it to shift the hair there upward to reveal the back of his neck where it turned into his back. “Can you see it?”

“The little lightning bolt?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the story of that?”

“That was my second one. To be honest, I was a little ink-happy after my first one, so a couple of weeks after I got it I went back and got this.”

“But why a lightning bolt?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted, turning back around to face her. “I guess it was just cool.”

“Oh, very,” Ginny said, and the edge in her voice let him know she was teasing him. “That leaves us with one, then. The emblematic chest tattoo.” Again, the playfulness disappeared from her face and was replaced by that strange look, the one Harry couldn’t really decipher but really, really liked. “Tell me, then, Harry— is Romilda Vane right?”

It was only because of the suggestiveness in Ginny’s voice and the permanence of that look on her face that Harry did what he did next. His movements slow, he pulled his shirt off over his head, setting it on the washing machine right by where Ginny sat. He heard Ginny draw in a breath and it hitch in her throat as she saw him, her eyes moving over his bare skin to spot the ink blot that had brought this all on. Curled above his right pec was a small, S-shaped dragon, colored in red and gold.

“I win,” Ginny said, her voice still husky, as she extended her left hand to touch the dragon with her fingertips.

“Are you going to tell Romilda?” Harry said, his own right hand settling lightly on Ginny’s thigh.

“No, actually,” Ginny said, her palm now coming down flat on Harry’s chest. Her other hand had also drifted to him, and she had placed it on Harry’s left side, right below his ribcage, as if to hold the side of his torso. “I think I’d rather keep this moment to myself.”

And then she was leaning in and kissing him, touching her lips to his first with tentative softness that turned into a stronger, more determined fire as the kiss deepened. With both of Ginny’s hands on Harry, and one of Harry’s on Ginny’s thigh and the other supporting the weight of the kiss against the solidity of the washer, they leaned into one another. Harry’s mouth sought out Ginny’s eagerly, overcome by the fiery feeling pooling in his stomach and rising up to his throat through his chest, by the fact that everything he’d thought about on their walk back from Lovegood’s was coming true much sooner (and much better) than he’d expected. He felt Ginny’s tongue nudge at his lips and opened his mouth to let her in, engulfing more of her lips with his as he did so. Ginny kissed passionately, her tongue meeting Harry’s even as her teeth dug lightly into Harry’s lower lip, making him kiss her more deeply. With her this close, he was invaded by the flowery smell of her hair, by the soft feel of her skin, by the low humming sound she made as she kissed him. And everything was coming together, making the fire in his chest grow, and it was a good kind of burn, better than whiskey, better than anything—

The loud ding of the washer as it announced it had concluded its cycle startled them, and they pulled back from the kiss looking a little dazed, that one upbeat chime having been all they needed to bring them reluctantly back into the real world. Still Ginny didn’t take her hands off Harry, and Harry felt less than inclined to move his from her leg.

“I should, uh, switch to the dryer,” he said, the only thing that popped into his mind there.

Ginny tightened her hold around his middle and moved her hand from his chest, wrapping it around his upper back to draw him closer. “Oh, let it wait,” she said, and then she was kissing him again, and Harry was finding that the dryer could wait for hell to freeze for all he cared.

The sleepy sound of the chimes above the door didn’t even make Ginny raise her gaze from her stats study guide, which she’d pulled out to make the best of the not-too-busy lull at Lovegood’s. “We’re almost closed,” she announced to whoever had come in.

“You can’t make room for one last customer?” a familiar voice said, and only then did Ginny perk up immediately.

“Harry!” she said brightly, shutting the stats book as it became all-but-forgotten. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to add one more tattoo to the five I’ve already got,” said Harry. “Think you can give me my sixth?”

Ginny didn’t even need to say yes, just opened up the lift-up counter door and disappeared through the beaded curtain. “Flip the door sign to 'closed’ before you come through, will you?”

Harry obliged and flipped the sign before following Ginny to the backroom. He sat patiently on the tattoo chair as Ginny milled about, getting the supplies ready.

“Y'know, you never did tell me the story behind your dragon tattoo,” Ginny commented as she went through the sterilization procedure for the needles. “Seeing as we were, um, otherwise occupied…”

The memory of the kiss flooded through Harry with the same fire that he’d held in his chest ever since, the flame growing to engulf his whole body just hearing Ginny mention it. “Should I tell you now?”

“I’d like to hear it.”

“I got it as a tribute to my old headmaster back home, Albus Dumbledore. Funny old man, and incredibly cryptic, but he’s the one that first gave me the idea of applying for the scholarship and helped me get all my grades and papers in order so I could make it here. We were very close, and he had this saying that he used to tell me whenever I ended up in his office for getting into trouble— 'never tickle a sleeping dragon’, he’d say.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Harry laughed briefly and shrugged. “Hell if I know. But it was his catchphrase. So after I graduated, I wanted to get something to commemorate him, so I got the dragon from his favorite saying. He came with me and got it too.”

Ginny turned to him and eyed him quizzically. “Your headmaster got the tattoo along with you?”

“I told you he was a funny old man.”

Ginny pulled a pair of black latex gloves over her hands and rolled a wheeled office chair over to Harry, the needle in hand. “So by what I’m hearing, you only ever get tattoos of things that are extremely meaningful to you, right?”

“That’s right,” said Harry.

“So, Mr. Meaning, what’ll it be this time?”

Harry smiled. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it slightly upward, just enough to uncover his lower trunk. He pointed to a spot on the left side of his torso, right under his ribcage— right where Ginny’s hand had been, where her touch had been burned into his skin. “Right here,” he said. “I’d like a little washing machine.”

[alengmae]

Rabble Drabble V: Advances

Colin fights off the advances of his wife in a drunken stupor.

A/N: Just so people know that I’m not completely heartless from the last chapter of my other fic. Here’s pure fluff. Enjoy!

Penelope glanced at the grandfather clock near the fireplace. It’s getting late and Colin was still not home. She wasn’t bothered much. It was a guy’s night out, after all. Whenever Michael, Benedict and Philip were in town, all the Bridgerton males made time to meet up and hang out. This guy’s night happened once every other month. 

She’s not worried, knowing full well that Anthony would be responsible for the rowdy boys. But tonight, Colin had been unusually late coming home. She could not help but entertain her growing unease. She did just get married to him. She would be really pissed if Colin ended up making her a widow so soon. 

She was about to call Kate when the doorbell rang. She answered the door promptly and was greeted at the sight of a disheveled Anthony keeping a drunk Colin upright. By the look of things, if she were to have taken her time from opening the door, Colin would have been sprawled on the ground, most likely pulling his brother with him. 

“Hey, Pen,” Anthony managed to say between grunts. He pulled on his brother, who was swaying dangerously on the spot. In his van behind him, Michael pressed on the car horn obnoxiously, to Anthony’s consternation. Benedict’s hoot and Philips yelp was very audible in her quiet neighborhood. Penelope would have to bake cookies again to appease her neighbors. 

“Fun night?” she asked with a laugh. She stepped up, anchoring her husband’s left arm over her shoulder. Colin, even in his drunken stupor, turned and bowed to the men in the car. He almost face-planted on the ground, if not for Anthony’s fast reflexes. 

The prominent vein on the left side of Anthony’s forehead was ticking dangerously. Penelope hid her giggle since he might go off any second. 

“Annoying gits,” Anthony mumbled as he shoved his brother into the house and into Penelope’s arms. “Always testing my patience. You got him, Pen?”

She nodded after hearing the car horn again. As much as she wanted him to help her with Colin upstairs, he needed to bring them home before her neighbors complained. She guided her husband to the stairs after saying, “Thanks Anthony. Close the door, will you?”

Her brother-in-law assented but added before rushing out, “Brunch tomorrow at mother’s, don’t forget!” 

“Got it!” she shouted as he shut the door close. “Alright, my love. Work with me,” she pleaded when she tried to get Colin up the stairs without any accidents. 

Colin shook his head, as if willing the booze away from his system, and took a good look at the stairs ahead of him. Then, he crouched down to all fours and slowly climbed up. Penelope was too flabbergasted to stop him. 

“Not what I have in mind, but I’ll take it,” she muttered as she followed him, making sure he did not make a misstep. 

He continued on until he reached the top. He stood up abruptly, with her guidance and made for their bedroom. Upon reaching the bed, Penelope stopped her husband from flopping onto the bed so she could take off his jacket, which reeked of booze. But before she could pull his sleeve off, he cut her off. 

“Excuse me, madam,” he slurred insistently, “I am a kept man. I do not care for your advances as I am very happily married.” 

Well, if that didn’t bring a bright smile on her face, she didn’t know what will. But she still needed to take off his jacket. “I just need to take off your jacket, love.” 

He acquiesced however, he refrained her from touching him with a light slap of her hand. He took it off easily then crashed head first on the bed.

Penelope was torn between annoyance and affection as she cradled the hand that he slapped away. In the end, she chose to linger on the fierce devotion he showed to her. She was successful in taking off both his shoes. When she was close to getting his socks off, he moved his feet out of reach. 

“No means no, lady,” he almost bellowed. “I’m married.”  

“So you kept saying,” she retorted as she chased his foot to pull on a sock. After a tedious minute, she was able to take it off and the other one too amidst his elaborate footwork dodges. She inhaled loudly, trying to be patient with her drunk husband. At this point, she may be okay with being a widow since she just might kill him herself.   

She sagged right next to him on the bed, her fatigue from the day catching up. She was ready to fall asleep when a scandalized, “Excuse me!”  prevented her from falling asleep. 

She scrunched her face and whispered to Colin, “You are really exhausting all my patience tonight, darling.” 

“I only sleep with my wife,” he insisted again, with a slur. “My Pen is the only one allowed to this,” he said as he gestured to his body. To his defense, it was a pretty tantalizing body. But she could not help but wonder if his brain was rendered useless with the alcohol in his tantalizing body.  

“Colin, just sleep, okay? I’m tired. You’re tired. Just go to sleep,” she appealed to him with wry fondness. She pulled on the comforter and tried to cover both their bodies with it. Unfortunately for her, he refused to cooperate. 

He fought off the comforter as if it were armed enemies, both his hands in a karate chop stance. 

“Colin! Just...oh my god,” she muttered under her breath. She’s never going to let him come back drunk ever again if he was going to be such a pain like this.

“My beautiful wife will have words with you, lady. Stop trying to molest me.” 

She wanted to strangle him but his compliment gave her pause. “Your wife must have the patience of a saint.” 

“My wife has everything,” he snootily replied. “She’s so witty and beautiful and insanely hot and funny and has the best rack,” his hands cupped the air daintily and she glowered at him, “and she’s sexy and she’s a great kisser and best of all, she’s mine.”

She wanted to wince. She honestly really hoped he didn’t talk about her breasts in public like this. But she would be lying if she denied being touched by his raining flattery. The muscles on her face tugged into a wide grin. 

“She should be lucky to have you. You’re not so bad yourself.” 

“I know I’m a catch,” her smile fell off, replaced by exasperation, “but my wife is leagues ahead of me. She’s the best. She’s absolutely, astoundingly gorgeous and that’s the least interesting thing about her. I’m awed that she chose me out of all the fools around her.” 

Well, shit. His words tugged into her heart, churning her insides into mush. Even the way he smiled dreamily as he went on and one about her sent her into a giddy rush. 

He continued, “I worship the ground she walked on. When she said she loved me, it felt like my life, only then, really started. Everything else was background noise. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing her how important she is to me. She is my dream fulfilled.”

Aww. This was better than his wedding vows. Her eyes misted as she tried to hide how touched she was at his drunken declaration. Penelope had to admit that drunk Colin was her favorite version of her husband. 

She leaned closer to him to give him a fervent kiss when his palm connected with her face. It wasn’t a slap, more of a forceful push. His outstretched hand pushed her away from his side. 

“God, lady, I just told you I’m married. I’m going to have to call the cops.”    

All of the goodwill she harbored from his flowery speech about her vanished. How could he use her face to push her entire body away from him? He’s definitely going to pay for this tomorrow. 

She left the bed at his unrelenting pushes. She grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and a bottle of aspirin. When she came back to their bedroom, he was fast asleep on his side of the bed. She placed the glass and medicine on his bed stand. 

He definitely was a handful but he was hers. 

She laid down on the bed, careful not to wake him from his slumber. It did not take her long to pass out in a dreamless sleep. 

She awoke to the glare of sunlight peeking from the drawn curtains a couple of hours later. She tried to rub her eyes but her arm was encumbered by her husband’s body. Colin, in his sleep, latched on to her side, curling his body flush to hers. She remembered his sweet words last night and grinned affectionately. However, she also remembered the way his hand connected with her face when she only wanted to give him a kiss. 

“Good morning!” she loudly exclaimed. 

Colin winced and cradled his head with a whine, “Why?”

His obvious pain was enough to balm the annoyance from last night. She ruffled his hair. “There’s water and aspirin there for you.” 

He mumbled his thanks and burrowed even deeper into the crook of her neck. She giggled when he peppered tiny kisses on her neck. 

“We have to be at your mom’s in a few hours. Think you’re up to it?”

He grunted a response, tightening his embrace on her. She reminded him of his mother’s special waffles and he seemed to be more amenable after. 

“I love you,” she told him, after a beat of silence, as she caressed his head.  

He peered at her. “I love you too. If I am to be greeted with this every morning after I get drunk, I’m drinking more often,” he answered with a joke. 

“Please don’t,” she asked with a glare.   

His face scrunched in confusion and all Penelope did was give her befuddled husband a sound kiss. 

[poorlytunedukulele]

Day 13 - Night of the Hunter

September 13, 2872

It had all started with a cryptic message.

Andal Brask: Party.  Tuesday.  29°30'57.2"N 147°42'28.2"W.  ;)

Azra didn’t have much going on that day, so she figured why not?  If it didn’t end up being her scene she could always just leave.

Still, some paranoia (it wasn’t not paranoia if it was useful, she had to remind herself) made her want to check out the place beforehand.  Or maybe she was just bored.  In any case, she found herself staring at an empty patch of Pacific Ocean at around 1pm local time.  Andal’s coordinates had her smack dab in the middle of nowhere.  There weren’t even any islands nearby.  She flew her jumpship in lazy circles, wondering exactly what kind of prank he was playing.

It took her a good fifteen minutes to realize that Andal had never specified the coordinates were on Earth.  A quick check with her maps revealed that 29°30'57.2"N 147°42'28.2"W was at the peak of a very prominent mountain on Venus.

But there wasn’t a party site at the mountain, either.  There was a cache.  A cache with a cheeky note (written in unfamiliar hand) and another set of coordinates.  Those lead her to a cave on Mars, then an archive in Freehold, then a weird spire on Venus. 

Azra was having so much fun she almost forgot about the party.  There was a clue in a dead zone so full of interference even the GPS failed and she had to navigate by her map alone.  She had to go diving in a cenote for another.

Then one clue dropped her off in the middle of nowhere.  While she’d been galivanting about the system, night had fallen on the Appalachian Dead Zone.  She was in some unremarkable stretch of forest in the mountainscape.  There was nothing.  No tracks, no trail signs, no notes with hints, just the cooling night air.

Azra closed her eyes and listened.  And though there wasn’t any sounds to be heard over the wind, she did smell something.  Just the barest hint of smoke.  It grew stronger as the breeze picked up, so she followed her nose upwind.  She paused to listen frequently.  After a few minutes, she heard… something.  Were those voices in the distance?

Azra had finally found the party.  She hadn’t seen the fire because it was in a deep gully, hidden by foliage.  She crested the ridge and watched for a few minutes below as figures talked, danced, gestured, lit by the roaring flames.  It was hard to recognize anyone from the distance, but this had to be the right place.

Azra picked her way down the slope, social anxieties forgotten.  Why she’d needed to go through a scavenger hunt to get here she had no idea, but she wasn’t about to complain.  It had been fun.

The ground was slippery at the bottom of the valley (there was mud beneath the dead leaf cover).  Azra would have normally paused to gather herself before approaching, but she was robbed of the opportunity when she tripped and slid the last few meters.

She stumbled into the light of the fire.  A ragged cheer went up from those gathered- all Hunters, she noted.  Azra was mortified for a second, all eyes on her-

Then everyone went back to their conversations.

Almost everyone.  There were a few familiar faces in the crowd.  Andal ambled over, drink in hand, hood thrown back.  “Hey, you made it!  Wasn’t sure you would.”

“Liar,” Cayde called from across the clearing.  “You bet she’d get here before the night was up.”

“Didn’t mean I knew,” Andal countered, then turned his attention back to the young Hunter.  “How long ago did you start looking?”

“Uh… four hours ago?”

Andal raised an eyebrow.  “Scoping out the site early, I see.  It’s not even dark in the Pacific yet.”

“I was bored.”

“You bored now?” Cayde asked as he also came over.  He slung an arm over her shoulders and gestured.  “Welcome to the cool kid’s club.”

“Is that what it’s called?”  Azra asked.  “With capital letters and everything?  The Cool Kids Club?”

“No,” Andal sighed, “but it should be.”

“Only the cool kids get invites,” Cayde explained.  “Only the good kids actually find the place in time.  So here we’ve got ourselves a bunch of good, cool kids.  That includes you, now.”

“Who arranged all of this?” Azra asked. 

Andal shrugged.  “Someone from Dead End Cure, this time.  Sometime tonight there’ll be a contest to see who has the honor next year.  Speaking of honor, did you remember your party etiquette?”

Spark answered by transmatting two bottles of rum into his Guardian’s hands.  She waggled them in a proud boast.

“Brought the good stuff, I see!” an unfamiliar voice said.  “Though I don’t recognize you.”

Azra turned as a stranger approached.  They were half a head shorter than she was, leanly muscled, with dark skin and a camouflage-patterned cape.  Azra glanced for half a second at Andal, who shook his head.

“You’re going to have to do a lot of introducing tonight,” the Gunslinger said.  He clapped her on her shoulder and wandered off to talk with Shiro and another unfamiliar Exo.

Message received: you stand for yourself here, no help from me.

“I’m Azra Jax,” she said, transferring the bottles to her left arm so she could stick out her right hand.  “My Ghost is Spark.”

“Name’s Puck,” the Hunter said, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

“It suits you,” Azra said without thinking.  They had a certain mischievous air about them.  That didn’t stop Azra from immediately regretting opening her mouth.  These were new people, she couldn’t go around saying whatever asinine thing came into her head first.

But instead of taking offense, the other Hunter just smiled.  “Thanks!  I picked it myself.  I think I have heard of you before, but I can’t recall when.  You frequent the ADZ?”

“No more than anywhere else,” Azra replied.  “Um.  I did some stuff at Twilight Gap.”  She really hoped it was that and not the other thing people always recognized, but the other Hunter’s face remained contemplative.

Puck shook their head.  “Fun story, actually.  I was stuck on Venus that whole time.  My ship got shot down and nobody could come pick me up.  I don’t think that’s it.”

Azra realized she’d be having this conversation a lot tonight.  She considered just leaving.  Booze and a bonfire didn’t really outweigh hours of curiosity she’d have to entertain.  “I’m the Arcstrider,” she said, aware of the weariness in her voice.

“Oh, yeah!” Puck’s eyes lit with recognition.  “Say no more.”  A pause.  “Damn, aren’t you like, four?”

“Yeeeessss?” Azra said.

“Andal!” Puck barked.  The Gunslinger ambled back over with Cayde and Shiro in tow.  He was trying to suppress a grin and failing. 

“You didn’t break the rules, did you?”  Puck demanded.  “No hints.”

Andal bowed.  “No, ma’amsiree.  Just the starting coordinates.  And a winky face.”

“I told you ‘sir’ is fine,” Puck sighed.

“I think mine is the more elegant solution,” Andal said with an air of superiority.  “Rolls off the tongue.  ‘Sir’ sounds like ‘zir’ and then we all get confused about how formal we’re being.”

Azra had already lost where the conversation was going.  “I ended up staring at the Pacific Ocean for a while before I realized what was up,” she offered.  “Also I have no idea what you’re arguing about.”

“Listen,” Puck said.  “Zavala uses ‘sir’.  Sloane uses ‘sir’.  Nobody is going around saying ‘him yes him’!  It’s never going to get confused.  Yours just sounds dumb.”

Azra turned to her Ghost for help, but he just did a shrug-twirl and floated closer to her shoulder.  “I didn’t spend a lot of time with people before meeting you,” he whispered.  “I have no idea either.”  Puck and Andal continued their debate, to Azra's befuddlement.

“Somebody please explain it to the newbie before she gets an aneurysm?” Shiro interrupted.  "She's turning red."

Puck turned to face her, dark eyes flashing in the firelight.  “Okay, fine.”  Azra knew that tone of voice.  It was identical to the one she’d used earlier, a weary ‘let’s get this over with’.  Puck spoke slowly.  “So I’m not a ‘ma’am’.”

“You’ve made that very clear, sir,” Azra said.  

“I’m not technically much of a ‘sir’ either,” Puck explained.

Azra’s brain plugged the new information into her equation and threw up an error message in response.

Andal cackled.  “I’m not sure we’re out of aneurysm territory, my fey friend.”

Azra held up her hands.  “You just spent like two minutes arguing-“

“I’m sure we could drag this on for another few,” Shiro said, “but let’s not.  Puck uses ‘ze’ and ‘zir’.  Andal always complains about honorifics because he likes smashing words together in terrifying new ways.”

“That’s it?” Azra said.

“There is no widely accepted gender-neutral honorific,” Andal said.  “But one day…”

“Really trying to change the world, this one,” Puck muttered.  Ze looked at Azra with a question in zir eyes.  Does this have to be a conversation?

“Uh.. it suits you?” was all Azra could think of.

Andal grinned and nudged Puck with an elbow.  Puck rolled zir eyes. 

Azra turned on her Gunslinger friend.  “Your solution to the ma’am/sir issue was ma’amsiree?”

“It’s in beta,” Andal said.  “Still working out the kinks.”

“It’s a wonder you haven’t come across this problem before if you’ve been running with him,” Puck said.  “Referring to people in… interesting ways is kind of his thing.”

Azra shrugged.  “That’s the trick.  I just don’t refer to people in general.”

“If it really bothers you, Puck, I’ll stop,” Andal offered.  “I was getting the vibe that you liked that bit, but I’m always willing to be proven wrong.”

Puck just laughed.  “As long as you don’t teach the newbies any bad habits.”

“I am sorry to inform you it is far too late for that,” Shiro intoned.  “The puns, Puck.  They get so much worse when she’s around.”

“Well see if I share my liquor with you,” Azra groused.  “I had to go into the City proper to get this stuff.”

Puck eyed the bottles she still cradled in her arms.  “Well, since you brought two, you deserve a present.  Come on.”  Ze swatted her shoulder until she moved to stand by a mostly-empty folding table.  Puck vaulted easily on to the table and stood.

“Hey!” ze shouted, clapping zir hands once.  All conversation died immediately.  “Public service announcement!  This,” ze gestured down to where Azra stood, frozen in shock, “Is Azra Jax.  She’s an Arcstrider.  Oooooo.  Big mystery.”  The Hunter waved zir hands in a spooky gesture, voice dripping with sarcasm.  “Here’s the deal: if any of you bug her about it, she gets permission to stab you.” 

“She won’t stab anyone even if they bug her,” Cayde called.  “She’s shy.”

“Then I give Cayde permission to stab you,” Puck said blithely.  Cayde made a silent gesture of celebration, which Puck ignored.  “I just eliminated a lot of boring conversation.  You’re welcome.”

“Is giving Cayde permission to stab people a good idea?” someone asked.

“Better not toe the line then, shouldya?”  Puck waggled a finger, then jumped nimbly down from zir table.  The hum of conversation resumed after a few seconds.

“Thanks,” Azra said.

Puck waved her off.  “I’m the host, it’s my job.  Drinks go over there.  Ashton left to get pizza like two godsdamned hours ago, you’re welcome to some whenever that gets here.  No explosions or ordinance unless some Fallen show up.  Be nice.  No bothering Azra about being an Arcstider.  That’s all the party rules as of now.”  Ze fixed her with a stern glare.  “Don’t make me add any more.”

There was a loud crack- a branch snapping under someone’s foot.  A cheer went up as an unfamiliar Hunter walked into the clearing. 

“That’s my cue,” Puck said, giving a sly wink.  “Have fun.”  The Hunter strode off to welcome the next person to the party.

"Come on," Cayde urged.  "I don't think you've been introduced to Mot Balek.  I have to be there to see that."

AO3 Linky

[curiouswritinggarden]

The Excuse

I am late for work! Late! Late! Late! Of all the nights to eat cheap fried rice, why did it have to be last night, I think to myself as I start the car. Eating Lee’s authentic Chinese special fried burger rice always knocked me out with fever dreams. I cringe while remembering the crazy dream about claymation Komodo dragons. Oof, I took two red lights. Hopefully I can get to the time clock before my boss notices. I finally arrive at the office building. I slam my car door shut and run through the crowded parking lot. There is only enough time to shout a frantic, “Good morning!” to the lobby’s receptionist before skidding into a closing elevator.

I take a second to catch my breath. The memory of the clay lizards whispering, “mould our faces,” creeps back into my mind. I shake my head to get rid of the weird thoughts and notice my hair is sticking out at weird angles. Great, just great, nothing says late like lopsided bedhead, I think as a try to smooth down my frizzy hair.

The elevator dings at my floor. I poke my head out of the sliding doors. The reception area is empty. The time clock gently ticks on the wall behind the welcome desk. A smug smile spreads across my face. No witnesses, perfect! I can’t believe the welcome room is empty. I speed tiptoe toward the time clock.

“You’re late.”

I jump and muffle a shriek. Slowly, I turn to face my boss, Mr. Borgman, with the most professional smile I can muster. Mr. Borgman is a tall, stern man infamously known for firing tardy employees in the office. He walks up behind me and adjusts his dark blue neck tie with the patience of a priest.

“Twenty-five minutes and thirty seconds late, Ms. Rubin,” he says as his eyes flicker to the clock and back to me. “I hope the extra sleep prepared you to welcome the clients scheduled this afternoon. You’re lucky none of them had the decency to come in early.” He regards me with a disapproving look as he passes judgement on my wicked bedhead. “Even though you are the, I assume, proud receptionist of Sleepy Time Pillows Inc., the company does not endorse sleeping in on work days.”

“There’s no reason why you deserve more sleep than the rest of our employees. Many of our workers perform outstandingly with the standard seven to eight hours of sleep every night.”

He leans down toward me, “Why should I make an exception for you?”

I crane my neck upwards as he looms over me. My smile dissolves into a sheepish smirk.

Why did my boss eat a mountain of calcium as a kid?

Taking a deep breath in, I squeeze out my words in a whisper, “I can explain sir, if you just give me a few minutes of your time.”

“You have taken more than enough time from me and the company already,” he says curtly. Then, with the grace of a confessor, his gaze shifts from judging to challenging. “But I would love to hear you try and talk your way out of this rather, sticky situation.”

He nods, in a merciful way, and eyes the time clock again, “I’ll even give you one minute to gather your thoughts.”

“Thank you sir,” I say meekly. A minute, huh? How am I going to come up with an excuse in a minute? Mr. Borgman is notorious for following the paper trails of his employees. If any employee was truly sick, he wanted them to show symptoms, have paperwork, and even a call from the doctor that treated them. He showed the same ruthless efficiency when family emergencies came up too.

How Jerry wasn’t fired after he faked his father’s own funeral is beyond me. Wait..That’s it! Jerry wasn’t fired, even after impersonating his allegedly dead father in an open casket funeral! It was proof there was a funny bone in my bosses’ thin skeleton figure. I just need to come up with a story wild enough to make him laugh, or at least crack a less sinister smile. I glance at him. His smile is relaxed yet all his teeth are showing. “Thirty more seconds, Ms. Rubin,” he says.

I rack my brain for any idea. Mould our faces, a slithery voice whispers. The dream, of course! I straighten my stance and channel all of my customer service calmness into my voice.

“There is a perfectly logical explanation of why I am late today Mr. Borgman. You see, yesterday I visited the Wynken, Blynken, and Nod Sleep Center in the hopes of convincing them to test if our Sleepy Time Pillows could improve sleep. They told me the lab would be interested, but first I would need to register with the center. As a requirement I had to volunteer in a sleep study.”

He raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“They told me the study would monitor sleep patterns of the average adult. Not wanting to waste any time, I volunteered for the sleep study last night. Unfortunately, my volunteer papers got mixed up and I was mistaken for a participant in a different study. At least, that’s what they told me, afterward.”

Pausing, I sigh and shake my head slowly, “What I’m about to say is going to sound crazy, but it’s all true. So please, do not interrupt me.”

He nods, “Alright, you may continue.”

“Last night during the, supposed, sleep study I was taken to a monitoring room. They gave me a glass of water and told me I had to drink it as part of the study. So I drank it and fell asleep mid-yawn. The next thing I knew I woke up in a room designed to look like a flower meadow.”

My boss scowls in confusion. He tries to interrupt me, but I cut in.

“Yes, I know it sounds insane, but that is what happened. I woke up in a room made to look like a flower meadow. The walls were painted sky blue and there was green shag carpeting with silk daisies stapled in place. I should know, I yanked a bunch of the fake flowers out of the carpet and cut my foot on the staple. I was confused and stumbled back into a painted wall. Then the wall spun around and I was in a night club. There were loads of people wearing glow-in-the-dark shirts in that crowded room. All of them were dancing to rave music with a heavy base. I was disoriented and kept bumping into dancers. I felt like I was in a human pinball machine and I was the pinball. Suddenly, someone pushed me out the door of the night club and into a different room. The new room looked like a kindergarten classroom…”

As I continue on my long tale, I describe myself walking in and out of dozens of strange rooms. Some with balloons in them, others filled with hedgehogs, but all of the rooms were wacky and left me feeling more befuddled than ever. I glance at my boss and see that my story has the same bewildering effect on him. His eyes are scrunched up in confusion, his mouth is open in a lopsided scowl, and his head is cocked to the side. I decide to wrap it up when it looks like his face is going to flip to a 180 degree angle.

“…And it was just when I was running out of the trampoline bug room that I was face to face with a pair of giant claymation Komodo dragons. They were hissing at me, ‘Mould our faces,’ when I lost the last shred of my sanity and ripped the lizard’s head off. I was screaming, ‘Ok, I’ll shape your faces!!’ when a buzzer sounded and over-head lights came on. People in lab coats walked into the room. They told me to calm down, which is hard to do when you are confused beyond belief and clutching a dislocated clay lizard head. They explained that all the rooms were part of an experiment. The scientists were testing to see how people would react to dreamscapes when they were fully awake. They placed me and other test subjects in a maze filled with bizarre things to simulate a dream landscape. I was shocked and yelled at them. I had only volunteered to do a regular sleep study, not be a guinea pig for a bunch of quacks. I collected my personal effects, went back home to change, and then raced over here to start my work day.”

Mr. Borgman stands very still in the waiting room. It takes him half a minute for him to blink. He reaches slowly into his pocket; perhaps to hand me a pink slip. Instead of termination papers, he takes out a moleskin notebook and writes for over 5 minutes. Then he closes the notebook and says, “Well, your excuse is going right at the top, along with Jerry Barton faking his father’s death, as the craziest late excuse I’ve ever heard.”

I gulp, “Does this mean I’m not fired, sir?”

He gives me a satisfied smile. “I should hope not Ms. Rubin, we need you on our ad campaign team. Someone with your creativity is needed to help us sell our pillows. I believe your excuse would make an excellent advertisement for our company.”

My sigh of relief is cut off as he talks to me again.

“However Ms. Rubin, do not come in late again or I will truly fire you.”

“Yes, sir.”

As he walks into the office, he laughs softly to himself. “Mould our faces, indeed,” he chuckles.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hey there! So this short story is based off a writing prompt from Writer’s Digest’s Year of Writing Prompts.   Specifically, March 4th’s prompt: You’re late for work because you overslept, but your boss hates over-sleepers. He does love entertaining stories, though, so create the most outlandish excuse as to why you were late.  Writing this was a lot of fun! The most difficult part was creating the actual excuse. I needed a scenario that sounded crazy, but real enough so that it would sound believable. The idea finally came to me when I thought of the company my main character worked for, Sleepy Time Pillows. After figuring out the name, everything else in the story fell into place.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the story! :D

[ducktracy]

162. porky and gabby (1937)

release date: may 15th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: ub iwerks

starring: mel blanc (porky, gabby, truck driver)

a new name in the director’s guild for the first time in 9 months! feels longer, doesn’t it? ub iwerks, as in flip the frog creator and co-creator of mickey mouse iwerks, landed a very short term gig at warner bros. his warner bros gig was essentially a freelance gig as he floated around studios. he got some work to do, and leon schlesinger was able to meet his cartoon quota. he only directed 2 cartoons until one day he just up and left, leaving his unit to bob clampett. after jack king left the studio in 1936, iwerks came. bob clampett, who had been promised a position by schlesinger for quite some time, wasn’t too happy that this new guy was stepping in and taking a directorial position after HE had been promised a position for quite some time, so schlesinger appointed him to help iwerks out and to get that looney feel in the cartoons. clampett took chuck jones, bobe cannon, and manager ray katz with him. thus, when iwerks left, clampett inherited the unit. essentially, he, chuck, and bobe acted like co-directors on the iwerks films, refining them to give the films a more warner bros feel. clampett’s first entry, porky’s badtime story, was started by iwerks before he left the studio. this newly formed unit became known as the ray katz unit, separate from the leon schlesinger unit.

with a new director comes a new “star” (or not): gabby goat. gabby was warner bros’ response to donald duck. a temperamental, brash, angry sidekick to balance out the good-natured, happy go lucky, though slightly bland porky, whose personality was still up in the air. bob clampett credits cal howard for the creation of gabby, who would actually voice him in gabby’s final appearance, get rich quick porky. gabby himself only starred in three cartoons, never making it out of 1937. however, storyboards for clampett’s porky’s party (1938) DO show gabby (and petunia) starring alongside porky in the short. gabby really interests me as a character. he was so rude that his brash personality was considerably toned down by his last entry. he paved the way for daffy as a sidekick—in fact, clampett would remake porky‘s badtime story in 1944 with tick tock tuckered, daffy usurping gabby’s role in the cartoon. while gabby (and iwerks)’s stint was short, he was actually revived in the second season of wabbit/new looney tunes in 2018, voiced by bob bergen! he’s an interesting case who i like a lot, even though he doesn’t have much to show for himself.

the synopsis speaks for itself: porky and gabby are headed for a peaceful camping trip, but a variety of mishaps threaten any ounce of their enjoyment.

iris in with porky and gabby (literally) trucking their way through the rolling country side, their car brimming with camping essentials and more. a jolly motif of “gee, but you’re swell” scores quite a majority of the cartoon, and the opening scene is no exception. gabby doesn’t seem to share the same appreciation porky does for the outdoors, haughtily slumped over in his seat as porky asks “sure a swell day to go camping, isn’t it, gabby?” 

before gabby can respond, their jalopy hits a rock, which catapults all of their camping supplies up into the air. thankfully--because why else?--the supplies piles back up neatly in the trunk, recovering from the bump. that is, except for one. a frying pan smacks gabby right on the head and gives him a shiner, much to porky’s amusement. gabby, full of malice, growls “YEAH!” in porky’s face.

just then, the two get stuck behind a moving van. we hear excessive honking as their jalopy zigzags back and forth, attempting to squeeze past, but the van is too big for the small country road they’re on. gabby is the perpetrator behind the horn, doing a fleischer-esque shiver take in anger as he honks on the horn and hurls insults. “hey you! get that big crate off the road! move over, we ain’t got all day! what’s the matter with you, you deaf!? you can hear that, can’t ya!?” while gabby engages in his hotheaded rant, porky, behind the wheel, is able to pull up next to the van, where gabby now yells at the bewildered truck driver in person. “get over, ya big sheep!” 

as gabby threatens to “bounce one up [his] chin”, the truck driver pulls on a lever, attached to a hand shaped paddle. the paddle smacks gabby right in the face, causing him to spin around and dangle helplessly from the outstretched paddle as porky drives on ahead, clueless. reused from porky’s romance and from the radio show community sing, the truck driver tells gabby not to get excited. gabby retaliates in a flurry of sped up anger (the voice clip reused from porky’s romance) “EXCITED?? WHO’S EXCITED!? I’M NOT EXCITED!!!”

conveniently, the paddle dumps gabby right in a mud puddle, sparking another angry outburst, now spewing insults and mud alike. porky, still driving on his merry way, overhears gabby’s rampage and screeches to a halt, now driving in reverse. the animation in this scene and the next one is nice and rubbery, very elastic and stretchy. ub’s cartoons are hardly the most entertaining, but i do love how rubbery and tactile his animation is. a jolly underscore “gee, but you’re swell” triumphantly scores porky’s demise as he too is smacked by the passing paddle on the moving van. he’s then tossed out of the driver’s seat and splayed onto the hood of the car.

while gabby continues his muddy ranting and raving, the car conveniently runs right over gabby, halting just above him. porky looks around, befuddled, stuttering “hey, gabby! where are you?” mel’s deliveries as gabby are more than amusing as gabby growls back “where am i! where am i? now ain’t that a smart question! i’m under the car, you big fathead!” porky, unscathed by the remarks, climbs back into the driver’s seat and tells gabby he’ll pull up. he does so, running over gabby’s head in the process. more scathing remarks from gabby, with some particularly fluid and lovely animation as he jumps up and down in the mud puddle.

transition to the two back in their car, inching their way up a very steep incline. there’s some lovely synchronization between the animation and music as the car trucks its way up, the water in the engine spurting with each push up, all in time with the music. this collaboration is furthered as the score slows down, now as fatigued as the car trying to truck its way up. very clever indeed. just as they finally reach the top, the engine dies.

porky suggests pushing, much to gabby’s chagrin, making his distaste known by slamming the door as he begrudgingly exits the car. more rubbery animation as porky pulls at the bumper from the front, gabby pushing from the back, griping about how he wishes he’d stay home. “i don’t like camping, anyway!” porky manages to pull the bumper off the car entirely, just in time for gabby to get a running head start and ram into the back of the car, causing the car to topple over porky and barrel down the hill.

quite an interesting switch in angles as the duo run down the hill to catch the car, the decline turning into an incline once more, with the car slowing considerably and beginning its journey up the hill. now, porky and gabby run AWAY from the car, not towards it, as the car slides back down the hill, seeing as it can’t accelerate or decelerate on its own. predictable, yet fun to watch as porky and gabby engage in a game of cat and mouse with the car, the car ultimately barreling into them, sending the two twirling up into the air and landing neatly back in their respective seats. cartoon physics to the rescue!

a bit confusing as the car suddenly gains life again, trucking uphill, exhaust coming out of the pipe, but so be it. porky and gabby FINALLY reach their destination, the score now a rendition of “speaking of the weather” (which is the title of a frank tashlin merrie melody as well!) but, as we all know, this is only half the battle. porky triumphantly declares “well, here we are! i’ll put up the tent. you unload the car.” judging by the way porky moves and how gabby squints at him in contempt afterwards, i’d wage this as bob clampett’s animation. gabby retorts “yeah, i get all the hard work!” he struggles to untie the endless luggage piled up on the car. instead, he pulls the weight of the entire car on top of him, luggage spilling out on the ground as the car does a few barrel rolls, landing neatly right side up. gabby pokes his head out of the luggage pile, giving the audience an angry trademark Gabby Wink/Grimace. 

elsewhere, while porky’s setting up the tent, a pesky bee comes to assess the situation. i wonder if bees in cartoons are an ub iwerks thing, or just a coincidence--in porky’s badtime story, which was started by ub, there’s a scene where porky tries to swat a bee away with a pillow, hitting gabby in the process. this could have been a clampett gag, but it wasn’t included in the tick tock tuckered remake, so who’s to say. some more interesting rubbery animation combined with a shiver take as porky angrily attempts to swat the bee away, getting stung in the ass in the process. the tent collapses, pinning porky and the bee together under the same tarp. the animation is just lovely to watch as the bee swoops around in circles, the tarp leaving a trail behind. very rubbery and malleable.

gabby begrudgingly prepares the furniture when he hears porky. “gabby! gabby! get a sly fwatter--a-a--a fly swatter!” gabby mutters to himself, scouting out a fly swatter, when he hits gold. a shovel. three times as big and three times as effective! gabby’s gleeful, slightly twisted grin as he charges towards the tent wielding the shovel is priceless. he’s a little too eager to bash some sense into that bee. 

porky’s still being stung to pieces when gabby arrives. this is probably one of the funniest moments in an ub cartoon at WB, the timing is just too good: gabby hesitates, watching porky writhe around in agony under the tarp, before bashing porky’s head in. porky (rightfully) cries “OW!” and we hear silence. no movement. even better is when gabby carefully picks up the tarp and looks inside, making sure his pal is still breathing. instead, the pesky bee flies out from the tarp and stings gabby right on the nose.

more wonderfully fluid animation and speed lines as gabby now chases the bee with the shovel, cursing all along the way. ub’s flip the frog cartoons didn’t shy away from cursing (lots of “damn!”s), so i wonder if he ever thought about giving gabby a proper sailor mouth. seems likely. the bee lands on the exhaust pipe of their car, and when gabby hits the pipe with his trusty shovel, the force is enough to knock out the engine of the car, popping out of the grill.

more bob clampett animation as porky recovers, struggling to tie the tent’s rope to a stake in the ground. now, porky asks for a piece of rope, much to gabby’s chagrin. “rope... rope... i ain’t got any rope! guy’s always wantin’ something. why don’t he get his own rope? ah, here’s a piece!” sure enough, a spare piece of rope slithers out from the pile of junk by the car. treg brown’s use of a donkey braying as gabby pulls on the rope is a great touch. 

unfortunately, we see that the rope is attached to the outboard motor. gabby gives a hearty tug, and the rope is freed from the motor, which activates it. the motor flies into the air, threatening to guillotine anyone who comes in contact with the blades. gabby is knocked into a hole the motor dug into the ground, peering out of it for safety (in a very similar manner to porky poking his head out of a hole in porky’s last stand). speaking of porky, he dives into his tent for safety as the motor cuts the tarp away into pieces. 

the animation in this sequence is lovely, accented by carl stalling’s favorite “black coffee”. gabby resorts to shooting at the motor with a rifle. cartoon physics--the knockback from the rifle sends gabby flying, landing on a car horn, which catapults him forward. he shoots, he bounces, he shoots, he bounces, and so forth. one excessive shot sends him flying onto a spare mattress, the spring catapulting him into the air. gabby shoots himself down, but it’s no use. the spring gets caught on a tree branch. the motor threatens to graze gabby as he yells at porky for help (”i’m caught on a limb!”). rather, the motor runs into him, sending gabby twirling around the branch and hurtling towards the ground, the spring coming loose. it’s difficult to put into words, but it’s a lovely scene with some lovely animation. 

porky, who has now miraculously found some rope, fashions a lasso and corrals the motor. “i got it! i got it!” but, as always, there’s a catch. a loop ties around porky’s legs, the motor dragging porky along in the wild goose chase. gabby scales up between two, lanky trees for safety, the motor cutting the bottoms off and making makeshift stilts. more beautiful animation as gabby struggles to stay put. eventually, the rope attached to the motor ties the two trees together, the rope loosening from porky’s legs and sending both him and gabby toppling to the ground. 

befuddled, both investigate the eerie silence--no motor in sight. that is until the familiar sound of whirring grows louder from off screen. in a panic, the two bump into each other as they scramble to escape, both flopping to the ground just in tiem for the motor to rocket over their heads. 

all hopes of a camping trip are out the window as the two scramble into their car. the engine, which had been catapulted out the front, is now pulled inside as the two speed away, hoping to outrun the deathtrap. i LOVE the detail of porky paddling at the air as they drive away, as if his meager attempts to paddle would speed the car up even more from the motor that flies threateningly close behind them. 

meanwhile, they encounter an old friend: the moving van that gabby had harassed from before. once more does gabby berate the innocent driver (”HEY! MOVE OUTTA THE WAY, WE’RE COMIN’ THROUGH!”) as we get an interesting angle of the motor heading straight towards the audience. 

porky and gabby duck, ready to meet their demise when the motor crashes into their car, pushing the car forcefully into the moving van. a cloud of smoke as the crash ensues. the truck driver has a tire dangling from his next, much to gabby’s delight. gabby bursts into a fit of hysterical, bleating laughter, nudging a dazed porky so he can get a good look. the van driver pulls on his trusty lever, and the hand shaped paddle from before gives gabby a well deserved smack. iris out as both the van driver and even porky beam at gabby’s humiliation.

what an interesting cartoon, to say the least! there’s a lot of layers to it, while simultaneously, there aren’t at all. to put it bluntly, at surface level, this isn’t a very good cartoon. a few plotholes (like porky randomly finding a rope after he needed one, the car miraculously working again after it had died, etc--but these are mainly cases of cartoon logic, don’t take these too seriously. these are observations rather than critiques), and the plot itself is very bare-bones. this is moreso a series of mishaps rather than a cartoon with a concrete storyline.

yet, with that said, i still enjoy it. the animation is the best part of the cartoon. i’m a very detail oriented person, and not a big picture person, which serves me well and detrimentally at the same time. so, i absolutely love how fluid, bouncy, and fun the animation is in this cartoon. that’s certainly an incentive to watch it. carl stalling’s music score, as always, compliments the cartoon quite nicely. and furthermore, this cartoon has some historical significance to it. not very much, but it’s there: it’s gabby’s first cartoon. that serves as another incentive to watch--gabby isn’t too exciting of a character, but he’s so fascinating to me that i can’t help but like him. he’s like a hidden secret. porky’s first sidekick, unless you count beans, but porky was moreso beans’ sidekick rather than beans being porky’s sidekick. gabby’s pretty obscure, but someone from the simpsons was a big enough classic cartoon fan to know who he was--they make a reference to him as “disgruntled goat”. this could be a coincidence, sure, but i’m definitely thinking this is a reference, especially considering another episode referenced friz freleng’s pigs is pigs from earlier in 1937. 

in all, this isn’t a great cartoon, and you probably COULD go without watching it and be fine, but i say watch it. there’s some wonderful animation and it has some interesting history, such as ub iwerks’ first cartoon at WB and gabby’s first cartoon. check it out for yourself and see what you think!

link!

[yuzuruspoohsan]

Dear yuzuruspoohsan, 1. Thanks for running the blog. It’s my life blood. I cant help going thru pervything tag like a thirsty hoe that i am 2. I think yuzu has the cutest nose 3. Im so weak for him with glasses? 4. Srsly, how can u b in love w some one you’ve nvr met???? Love, -R-

Ahh, thank you.

It’s funny, it’s the first I’ve heard someone think he has a cute nose. Oh well, to each their own.

And glasses…..

His spec game is strong.

[Edit: It has come to my attention that people think I’m being too literal with how I read the message, but I wrote this long-ass part just in case someone feels this way. I’m not saying you can’t say “I love Yuzu,” as an hyperbole. I’m just putting content out for those who want to read it. If it didn’t apply to you, fine, move along.]  

For four, I personally don’t think that it should be considered love when you don’t know the person. It’s a crush for sure, but I wouldn’t classify it as love “love.” (This is not a typo with the double loves.)

Perhaps, I have a more strict divisions between certain things because I understand that the way we use love in English is extravagant.

For example: “I love this show.” And then there’s, “I love my mom.” But we also can say, “I love this person.”

Of course, we know that the ‘love’ expresses a different kind of love each time it’s used. The problem is that there aren’t specific terms to distinguish those different types of love in English. And I think the limitation of language can befuddle the way people think about their emotions in relation to other things.

To my understanding of Chinese and Japanese, you hardly ever say you love a thing. You can say, I really like this thing, but never love because “love” is reserved for something more deep and strong. So strong, that you won’t use it for any typical thing. It when it is said nonchalantly in Chinese and Japanese, it is not taken very seriously depending on the context. Of course, we can still use the word “love” in English to be paired with things we feel strongly towards, but we run into the risk of confusing what is what because our emotions are so strong, but we do not have enough to differentiate it all in colloquial language.

I want to emphasize that I am not saying this all to belittle you. I am merely expressing my point of view in hopes that I can help you distinguish between obsession (which is driven by passion, an intense emotion that has it’s merits in pursuit for love) and romantic love (the one that is more lasting.)

So, I do not think that I can actually love, as in romantically, someone that I do not know. I have expressed this before, but Yuzu is a stranger to me and I am a stranger to him. We do not know each other at all. How can there be love? How can there be any real romantic feelings let alone friendship?

I can acknowledge that I am attracted to him. And I feel strongly towards him, but those feelings cannot be identify as love. Because love to me is more than just a strong attraction or attachment to someone. When I love someone, I must identify who this person is to me in order to distinguish what kind of love I feel towards them. Thus, my love towards my friend is most definitely more than the one I feel towards Yuzu. I most certainly can fly to aid my friend, but I cannot do the same for Yuzu.Some may say, “oh, I’m a better fan than you because I’ll do anything for him!” Okay, you do that. Do that. No seriously, I want to see you try. But whatever you choose to do, is no concern of mine nor does it affect my support for him.(I’m such a hard ass.)

Once you accept that it is illogical to actually have romantic feelings towards a stranger, things begin to make more sense.

In this age of media, it is so easy to buy into the idea that you actually know a celebrity or famous person because of the sheer exposure to them 24/7 (my blog is to blame as well. And there are certain things I believe in about Yuzu and no one can change my mind, but him. But I admit that I can be wrong in what I believe. Ignore me on this.)[There used to be an age where if you never saw the person in real life, they technically didn’t exist in your life. Case and point. Media wrecks that.]

Now, I cannot force you to change your mind, but I hope that I have at least eased your emotional attachment to him. You can still thirst away all the same. But love? That’s up to you to decide what you want to think.

I run this blog to at least provide a space for those who thirst for him. It’s entertainment. And I want to make jokes and funny posts for people to laugh at and enjoy. To be happy. And to have fun in the fandom. That is what I think and what I do.

To conclude: I love Yuzu, but I do not love him romantically.

[daleisgreat]

30 Years of Genesis: Going 30 Years Playing No More Than 30 Minutes of Sonic

This summer marks the 30th anniversary of the launch of the Sega Genesis in North America. I had such a nostalgia trip reliving my memories of the GameBoy while crafting my recent GameBoy 30th Anniversary piece, that it only seemed fitting that Sega’s iconic 16-bit platform gets the same honors of recounting my memories with it. If you are looking for a more authoritative historical piece on it I recommend either Phoenix IV or Console Wars. The former is a strictly informative recounting of the history of the system while the latter is an entertaining retelling done in the form of a novel after days of interviews with everyone involved. The following are my own personal experiences of playing the Genesis over the past three decades.

I remember first encountering the Genesis while spending either Thanksgiving or Christmas 1991 over at my older sister and brother-in-law’s house. I was only eight at the time, and remember being perplexed at the black gaming box and the thought that there could somehow be other systems than the good ‘ol NES. I did not subscribe to any gaming magazines at this point and I think I was still about a year away from experiencing Sega’s deluge of combative commercials against the SNES. During that holiday season of ’91 I recalled playing the first Streets of Rage on the Genesis with my little brother nonstop the couple days we were there. I remember being blown away by how superior it was graphically to what I experienced with other NES brawlers before like Double Dragon. We only got up to the stage where we faced off against the dueling karate sisters who kept whooping us and neither my brother nor I had the skills at the time to get past. The next year or two the only times I recall playing the Genesis were at my sister’s for the holidays or the occasional store kiosk. I remember my brother-in-law picked up other games we played regularly like ToeJam & Earl, Buster Douglas Boxing, Toxic Crusaders and PGA Tour Golf. I dug all of them, especially ToeJam & Earl where I had no idea what was happening half the time with its unorthodox level structure and item pick-ups, but loving the co-op gameplay, stylish graphics and its funky beats at the time. Brief memories of store kiosk play from the early 90s consisted of being horrible at the original Sonic the Hedgehog because it was too fast for my childhood noggin’ to comprehend. I also recall being confused at early editions of Madden Football at store kiosks because when I would press buttons to hike the ball ‘Audible’ would appear on screen and then eight or nine-year old Dale had no idea what that meant compared to easier pick up and play NES pigskin games I was conditioned to.

Until Christmas of 1995 I probably played no more than about 10 Genesis games all together. I was more aware of the system by that time thanks to reading magazines more regularly at that point and hearing from classmates who had the system, but until that point I was pretty loyal to my NES still (I did not get a SNES until late ’96). For the Christmas season of ’95 my best friend at the time who coincidentally lived three blocks away from me, Rich, received a Genesis and that was when I got a lot more hands-on time with its extensive library of titles. Rich and I shared a lot of similar game interests which at that time was a ton of sports games, fighters and action/brawlers. For the next several months I was over at Rich’s for countless sleepovers and going nuts with fighters like Mortal Kombat II and Evander Holyfield’s Real Deal Boxing. Real Deal Boxing blew away Buster Douglas Boxing with more authentic boxing gameplay and an insanely thorough career mode where we would take a created boxer and move him up the ranks as champion until his skills gradually weakened with age to force his retirement. We absolutely ate up the sports games at that time. We played what seemed like an infinite amount of Madden NFL ‘97. A much wiser 13-year old Dale was no longer befuddled by the intricacies of Madden and we had so much fun with it. We would create many players to deck out our teams and keep running blitzes to try and injure the players because there was an intense bone-breaking injury sound effect that we ate up. It was like the equivalent of Favreau and Vaughn going nuts in Swingers when they made Gretzky bleed in NHLPA ‘93.

Mutant League Football was another favorite of ours that made that injury sound effect in Madden child’s play. EA also made MLF and it was the equivalent of NFL Blitz at the time with larger-than-life mutants and animals literally killing each other on the field with over-the-top hits. It was possible to force a team to retire due to killing off too many of its players which was always our desired objective! If you have not played its spiritual successor follow-up, Mutant Football League on PS4/XB1 I give it the highest of recommendations because it perfectly capture the sensation of the Genesis game while bringing it up to contemporary standards. We also played a lot of EA’s violent driving game, Road Rash II. Being able to race motorcycles and knock out your competition with chains and nightclubs while trying to evade the cops seemed revolutionary when playing it for the first time! We later discovered EA’s take of Road Rash on rollerblades in the awesome rollerblade stunt/racing game Skitchin’! Fun fact about Skitchin’ is that the competitors you race against have gnarly nicknames like ‘Thrasher’ and ‘Jackal’ and thus in ’96 was the origin of how I came up with what wound up as my online handle but at the time was my radical Skitchin’ username, ‘Gruel’ to blend in with the rest of the pack and have stuck with it all these years later!

After spending several months devouring a good dozen or so Genesis games with Rich, it did not compare to the summer of ’96 when Rich signed up for the Sega Channel! I remember it launched in 1994 and seeing commercials for it at the time where it seemed too good to be true where for about $15/month would net the user a Genesis cartridge that would connect to a cable line and get the Genesis online streaming access to a rotating 40-50 Genesis games a month. That is right, decades before services like OnLive and Playstation Now, the Genesis did streaming gaming back in ’94 and it worked like a charm! Check out this pristine archival footage of the menus to see how it all worked. Sega Channel essentially was what Xbox Game Pass is today, and I am surprised to hear how little it is discussed when people reminisce about the Genesis. We discovered so many new games this way and for that entire summer I was over at Rich’s about three to four days a week binging on Sega Channel games until Rich’s dad got on my case because I was over so often. I remember discovering new sports games on there like the innocuously titled Super Volleyball that we became somehow addicted to and the surprisingly awesome Tiny Toons ACME All-Stars that had its own killer spin on arcade basketball and soccer that it played like NBA Jam but filled with crazy Tiny Toons power-up attacks. Sega Channel is what additionally exposed me to co-op games like General Chaos, the Streets of Rage sequels and Gain Ground and classic single player games like Shadowrun, Comix Zone and Vectorman that Rich and I took turns trying to keep progressing through. Sega Channel also was my first exposure to the classic Bomberman franchise with many nail-biting rounds played of Mega Bomberman! It came as no surprise to me when I finally bought a Genesis a few years later in 1999 that the first games I hunted down for it were those same games I first discovered on the Sega Channel! In April of 1999 shortly after I turned 16 I got my first after-school job and after a few paychecks I went to Wal-Mart to determine what should be one of the first games to buy on my own! This was around the time when Majesco re-released the third, mini-sized Genesis model at a discount price of around $30. I was legit stunned at that price for a brand new system, even if it was for a ten-year old platform at that time I could not help but instantly snatched it up!

If you read my GameBoy special from several weeks back you will recall my lamenting over its lackluster wrestling games compared to the superior ones on the 16-bit platforms. On Genesis, Rich and I played way too much Royal Rumble on the system. Other wrestling games I picked up for the Genesis over the years was the inferior predecessor to Royal Rumble in Super Wrestlemania. While I had a blast with Rumble way back when, it regrettably does not hold up well all these years later with its over-reliance on a button mashing grapple meter that obliterated thumbs that I have no idea how I tolerated at the time. Saturday Night Slam Masters was a unique wrestling game from Capcom. It is essentially Street Fighter II in a wrestling ring, complete with victory taunts, Mike Haggar from Final Fight in its roster and even has a few wrestling moves sprinkled in! I loved how they had over-the-top laser light entrances and larger-than-life character sprites at the time, and I recall enjoying the Genesis version more than the SNES. There was nothing else like it since, and on occasion I will still throw it in every couple of years. I continue to hope one day Capcom will release its sequel, Ring of Destruction in a random collection of arcade games because it never got a home port all these years later.

Sports games ruled on the Genesis! Pictured from clockwise at top left is Holyfield's Real Deal Boxing, NHLPA '93, Super Volleyball and Tiny Toon ACME All-Stars I mentioned some of my favorite sports games for the system above, but it really needs to be emphasized how big sports games were on the Genesis. Both Sega and EA pumped out a seemingly endless line of sports titles for the system. I remember getting into silly speculation with Rich over how much extra memory that yellow tab on the EA carts allowed EA games to play better. For hoops titles I got my NBA Jam and Live fix on SNES, but on the ‘ol Genny my go-to basketball games were the oft-forgotten NCAA skinned version of Jam in College Hoops. I occasionally also threw in the hand-me-down street ball version of NBA Jam in Barkley Shut up Jam. I loved Madden, but Sega’s Joe Montana line of gridiron games were just a notch or two below too. For baseball, Sega’s World Series Baseball titles were in a league of its own when it came to gameplay and presentation with its larger-than-life hitter/batter perspective. For hockey EA’s NHL line was/is legendary! About four or five years ago my friend Derek gave me a ring to come over for some impromptu random gaming and he never played much Genesis before so when he got over I had the Genesis hooked up and laid out all my games for it and of that night we had the most fun playing a few rounds of NHL ‘94. At that point it was a 20-21 year old game and it still held up as one of the best hockey games of all time.

For brawlers I loved the Streets of Rage games, but I think it is my secret shame that I have yet to complete a single one. That must one day change! I did love the exclusive Genesis TMNT game, Hyperstone Heist! It was right up there with Turtles in Time and every couple of years my friend Matt and I make it a ritual to plow through that game. After many attempts we also conquered the Genesis port of the awesome arcade brawler, The Punisher! It does not have as friendly of a continue system as Hyperstone Heist so Matt and I had to learn to play a little more conservatively and not rely on mindless button mashing. It felt gratifying to have all that hard work pay off and beat The Punisher….until we got a copout ending screen of text saying ‘Now play like the Punisher and try hard difficulty.’ We did not, but I wound up looking up the ending several years later and at least Capcom made it worth your while because it had a far more intricate ending than many other brawlers at the time. The one Genesis brawler that always had our number was Captain America and the Avengers. It is a lot of fun to play, but it does not allow that many credits and by setting ourselves up with the max lives and continues that game was still a beast, and even playing conservatively and having so many attempts we only managed to make it to the final boss, The Red Skull, only once. Let us fast track to about a little under 10 years ago when a co-worker approached me about being interested in buying his Genesis/Sega CD/32X along with a couple dozen games. He was saving up to pay off his upcoming wedding and he gave me a list of everything he had along with prices for everything he wanted going by what he saw off eBay auctions. I did some price researching of my own and made him an offer of around $250-ish for the ‘tower of power’ and about 20 games combined for all three systems. Looking back I accidentally lucked out with that offer because it was only a couple years later when 8/16-bit prices on the used market took a huge jump. I never had a must-have desire for a Sega CD or 32X, but there were always a couple of games I wanted to play on them that I eventually hunted down. I liked the versions of WWF RAW, Doom, Virtua Racer and especially Virtual Fighter the most out of my dozen 32X games. I recall as a then 10 and 11 year old being disgusted by early polygonal console games like Star Fox and Virtua Racer and was more on board with FMV games being the future, but remember being a little taken aback by Virtua Fighter indicating that there may be something to these 3D polygons. The 32X version is a surprisingly faithful version to its arcade counterpart.

I need to dive into my SegaCD games more one of these months. I hunted down all the must own titles for it like the Working Design RPGs, Shining Force CD, enhanced versions of Amazing Spider-Man and Batman Returns and Snatcher which I hope to one day knock off my gaming bucket list. Regrettably now my only SegaCD games I invested a decent amount of time into are WWF Rage in the Cage (essentially Super Wrestlemania but with some FMVs and a bigger roster), Slam City with Scottie Pippen (a abysmal FMV-based street hoops title) and the underrated SegaCD exclusive brawler, Prime. I am a huge Ultraverse comic nut and I ate up Prime on SegaCD since it was the only game released featuring characters from that comic book line before Marvel acquired them and cancelled all their books within a couple years (yes, I am still bitter over it). It is only one player, but Matt and I spent a few attempts taking turns at beating levels until we finally vanquished it. We even had an attempt thwarted when Prime was loading the final boss battle when a flipping blackout halted our progress! As memorable as that moment is I will instead forever associate Prime with its unrivaled and unforgettable opening theme music (seriously….give it a listen!). I need to give a shoutout to the official handheld Genesis, aka the Nomad! My brother surprised the hell out of me one year with it for a birthday present. My favorite Nomad memory is my brother getting hyped for getting his own version of Genesis Shadowrun and I told him I would come over and bring my Nomad and my version while he played on his television and we could both start off our own new game and exchange tips and hints in a friendly rivalry type of way. I think my brother must have gotten the Genesis version of Shadowrun mixed up with the completely differently designed SNES version because he tried to run around aimlessly and gun down everything which is not how you want to play the Genesis version. We were planning that day out for weeks and I remember being stunned after about 15 minutes when I was starting to sink my teeth back into Shadowrun’s cyberpunk action-RPG brand of awesome when my brother out of nowhere went ‘screw this, let’s play something else!’

As I wind down I want to give many thanks to Sega for keeping the Genesis relevant throughout this century with its gratuitous re-releases of physical and digital collections. I have no idea why, but I keep on buying them for the convenience of having them for the latest system. It started with the Sega Smash Pack on DreamCast seeming like a killer value in 2001 for 12 games for $40. Then a few years later on PS2 I snatched up Sega Genesis Collection which seemed like an even better value with just over 30 games for $30! Then in the 360/PS3 era along came Sonic’s Ultimate Genesis Collection which offered 40 games for $30!! Sega also sold a lot of the games ala carte via each console’s digital storefronts. Then last year we got Sega Genesis Classics on Xbox One/PS4 with 50 games for $30!!! The last several years Sega also has been licensing out to At Games to release their own pre-programmed Genesis mini console with dozens of pre-installed games. I held off on getting those after hearing how awful its emulation and shoddy production quality is, but after hearing how Sega finally decided to manufacture their own Genesis Mini themselves this fall and handed off the emulation duties to the acclaimed emulation studio M2, I could not pre-order fast enough! I have no idea why I keep deep diving down this well, but hats off to Sega for keeping me coming back again and again! Similarly with my GameBoy flashback piece, I had an unorthodox experience with the Genesis. I was not a hardcore Sonic or Phantasy Star player like the average Genesis owner. If you ask me any day of the week my answer to what my favorite Genesis game is, it could be either The Punisher, Madden NFL ‘97, Shadowrun, Hyperstone Heist, NHL ‘94 or Skitchin’. That is another thing that made the Genesis great was its mammoth library of diverse titles so there was no doubt something for everyone! With that I will put the kibosh on this look back of my favorite moments with the Genesis as I anxiously await for my pre-order of the Genesis Mini to arrive in a few months! Want more Genesis Love from me in Audio and quasi-video form? I was looking through my hard drive archives and a decade ago while I was still doing my videogame podcast, On Tap, we did a special 20th anniversary special on the Genesis where my co-hosts and I reminisce about the Genesis. I went ahead and uploaded it on YouTube so if you want even more Genesis takes then click here to give it a listen! Also recorded throughout 2009 from the On Tap archives was installments from our history of comic book videogames series. In this next episode I uploaded to YouTube is the second part of series where we breakdown every single comic book licensed game on the SNES and Genesis! My co-host Matt and I did thorough research for this episode and played almost nearly every single comic book game from this era in preparation for the episode to give the most up to date research and to see if these games (of which a vast majority are beat-em-ups) still hold up. Click here to give it a listen! My Other Gaming Flashbacks GameBoy 30th Anniversary

[minijenn]

Universe Falls, Chapter 35, Part 2

AHHHHHH ITS FINALLY DONE GUYS AND I’M SO EXCITED!!! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE AND IT TURNED OUT SO GREAT AND AHHH I CAN’T STOP SMILING WITH EXCITEMENT! But anyway, I’ll stop screaming about it so you guys can finally read it! Enjoy!

Previous: http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/160736308509/universe-falls-chapter-35-part-1

Chapter 35: Fusion Fiascos

Part 2: Together Forever

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Steven stifled an excited grin as he watched the Gems scramble about the house, gathering up supplies for their latest mission. Of course, the supplies were actually intended more for him than them, since they were certainly going to be gone overnight on a distant monster hunt that they had deemed far too dangerous for their young ward to accompany them on. Still, Steven hardly minded staying behind this time. After all, while the Gems had been planning this mission for the past several days, the young Gem had been busy discreetly planning something of his own to occupy his time during their absence.

“Alright, Steven,” Pearl smiled as she finished folding the last of the young Gem’s shirts and putting it away. “That should be enough clean shirts to last you until we get back.”

“Thanks, Pearl,” Steven said with a slightly confused grin. “But uh… why do I need so many extra shirts if you guys are only going to be gone overnight?”

“Oh, well you know what I always say,” the white Gem began, nodding to the pile of neatly creased clothes. “Preparation is the best policy!”

“That’s honesty, Pearl,” Garnet coolly corrected the phrase. “But still, there’s no problem with being prepared.”

“I don’t get why you guys are worrying so much anyway,” Amethyst spoke up. “Like Steven said, we’re only gonna be gone for one night. He’ll be fine, right dude?”

“Right!” Steven enthusiastically agreed. “In fact, I’ll be even more than just fine. I’ll be great!”

“And why do you say that?” Pearl asked with an inquiring smirk.

“Ohhhh! Are you plannin’ on throwing down and partying hard while we’re gone, Ste-man?” Amethyst asked boisterously, putting the young Gem in a light headlock.

“Maaaybe…” Steven grinned coyly, pulling himself out of the purple Gem’s grip.

“Well, just make sure you don’t party too hard,” Garnet remarked with a smile that was quick to fade into foreboding sincerity. “That goes for both of you.”

“Both of who?” the young Gem asked, aptly confused.

“You’ll get it soon enough,” the Gem leader said as she made her way to the warp pad. “Or at least, I hope you’ll get it…”

Steven frowned, still quite befuddled as Amethyst and Pearl hopped up onto the pad alongside their leader. “Well, have fun with your wild party anyway, Steven!” the purple Gem called casually. “Wish I could be here to show your hundreds of guests how to really let it lose!”

“Amethyst, please,” Pearl scoffed, rolling her eyes. “He’s not going to have hundreds of guests.” She paused briefly, concern flashing over her face as she glanced to Steven. “Are you?”

“Nah,” the young Gem said with an honest shrug. “It’s just gonna be me, Connie, Dipper, and Mabel. We’re just gonna hang out around here, eat some snacks, watch some movies, you know, normal stuff for us.”

“Oh well that’s a relief,” the white Gem sighed calmly. “Though ‘normal’ stuff for you four usually seems to involve some kind of deadly monster or dangerous mystery or some other mishap… Just try to be careful, ok?”

“Got it!” Steven nodded firmly.

“Geez, can we just go already?” Amethyst asked with an impatient huff. “You guys act like we’re gonna be gone for years.”

“Hm… I suppose we should be on our way…” Pearl frowned before turning to the young Gem one last time. “Goodbye, Steven! Have fun! And remember to-”

“Stay safe, I know,” the young Gem let out a good-natured laugh. “Bye, guys! See you tomorrow!”

The Gems all waved their farewells back to their young charge as they warped off, leaving him alone, though, as he anticipated, not for long. Steven grinned to himself, his back still to the front door as he counted aloud in anticipation. “Three… Two… One-”

“It’s party time!” Mabel proclaimed, carrying Waddles as she burst into the house, Dipper and Connie following not too far behind her.

“Yeah it is!” Steven chimed in zealous agreement, spinning around to face them. “And it’s gonna be so awesome!”

“Well, as awesome as it can be with just the four of us,” Dipper remarked with a bemused smirk.

“So, what are we going to do all day since we have the whole place to ourselves?” Connie asked curiously.

“I think the better question is, what aren’t we going to do?!” Mabel replied with a huge smile as she sat Waddles down so he could join Lion on the couch. “Ever since Steven told me the Gems were gonna be gone overnight, the two of us have been planning out all of the wild and crazy fun that’s gonna fill the next 24 hours!”

“That’s right,” Steven nodded eagerly. “We have it all figured out. We’ll watch movies, play video games, maybe even hang out in my mom’s room again since the Gems aren’t here to tell us we can’t.”

“Ooo, Steven!” Connie chuckled jokingly. “You’re really living on the edge with plans like that.”

“Heh, maybe a little,” the young Gem laughed with something of a bashful grin.

“But no matter what we do, it’s all gonna be the best time ever!” Mabel quipped excitedly. “And you guys know why?”

“Um, because hopefully we won’t have to deal with anything that could get us killed this time?” Dipper guessed with a shrug.

“Nope! It’s because me and Steven planned everything,” Mabel beamed proudly as she threw an arm over the young Gem’s shoulder. “And nobody knows how to have fun like the two of us!”

“We really can’t argue with you guys there,” Connie said, sharing a laugh with Dipper as the pair decided to prove their point. In a perfectly coordinated move, Mabel tossed up a handful of the glitter she always had on her up into the air while Steven threw some confetti that he had gotten for the party. Together, both substances created a colorful, sparkling rain, one that covered the two entirely as they laughed and reveled in their shared enthusiasm. They didn’t even bother trying to shake the glitter or the confetti off as the laughter petered out and Steven let out a sudden gasp.

“Oh! That reminds me!” the young Gem exclaimed. “Before you guys got here, I was thinking about how we’d kick things off, and I figured that there’s no better way to get a party rolling than with snacks! You guys did bring the snacks, right?” he asked the twins.

Neither of them answered right away, instead exchanging a tentative glance that was soon broken as Dipper let out an aggravated sigh upon noticing Mabel guiltily biting her lip. “Seriously, Mabel?” he asked, exasperated. “I told you like, 20 times before we left the shack not to forget the snacks!”

“Aw, what can I say, Dipper?” Mabel said, putting on a charming, apologetic grin. “I was just so excited about the party that I couldn’t think about anything else!”

“I know, right?” Steven interjected. “I was so pumped for this that I actually forgot to eat breakfast this morning!”

“No way, me too!” Mabel exclaimed, awestruck by the coincidence.

“Whoa!” Steven gasped, stars in his eyes as he was clearly getting carried away by their shared excitement. “Then that means that instead of being Crying Breakfast Friends, we’re actually No-Breakfast Friends!”

“Steven, that’s the most hardcore thing ever!” Mabel practically shouted with verve as her and Steven enthusiastically high-fived. “No-Breakfast Friends forever! Or at least until the next time we eat breakfast.”

While, Dipper was far less entertained by their hyperactive zaniness, Connie couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh upon hearing their somewhat nonsensical proclamation. “What are we gonna do with you two?” she asked, shaking her head with a wry smirk.

“Love us because we’re great,” Mabel suggested coyly as Steven chuckled his agreement.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do,” Dipper spoke up staunchly. “I’m gonna go get those snacks. Come on, Mabel.”

“Oh, you know, I would come, but I-” Mabel cut herself off as she plopped down onto the couch, squeezing in between Lion and Waddles. “Just got comfy. So sorry, bro-bro, but I’m a no-go.”

“Figures,” Dipper scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll go with you to get the snacks, Dipper,” Connie offered. “It’ll give you a good chance to finish telling me about that theory on the Wizard Wilds you mentioned the other day.”

“Oh yeah!” Dipper instantly perked up at this, already leading the way to the door. “Well, we might as well get going. We’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said to Steven and Mabel.

“Try not to cover the house in glitter and confetti, ok?” Connie asked with a smirk.

“No promises,” the young Gem saluted jokingly. Dipper and Connie shared a small, amused laugh as they left, leaving Steven and Mabel behind to exchange a wide, eager smile. “So are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Steven,” Mabel began, leaping off of the couch. “If you know me, then you know I am. So…”

“Let’s get this party started!” they both shouted in boisterous unison before doing just that.

Knowing that Dipper and Connie wouldn’t mind if they kicked things off early without them, Steven and Mabel proceeded to jumpstart the fun by haphazardly tossing the streamers and the rest of the confetti that the young Gem had on hand all over the house. From there, they made sure Lion and Waddles were both properly equipped with party hats before taking copious amounts of cheerful selfies with their respective pink pets. But still, the party didn’t really begin until Steven turned the radio on to a pop station, one that instantly got them both excited the moment they heard the familiar tune playing.

“Oh my gosh, I love this song!” Mabel exclaimed brightly, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Me too!” Steven laughed, already dancing around to the fast beat of the song. Mabel readily did the same, her movements uncalculated but energized and free nonetheless. Steven’s moves weren’t any more controlled as he slid across the floor, only to end up falling flat on his face as a result, chuckling loudly all the while. Mabel laughed hard as she hurried over to help him up, and though Steven surprised her by grabbing both of her hands as he stood and pulling them both into a fast, loose spin. By now, both of them were laughing so much that they could barely breathe, but they didn’t care. Instead, they just kept on “dancing”, twirling around the room together and scarcely even thinking about stopping any time soon. After all, how could they think about stopping when they were having so much sheer, unbridled fun?

As the song playing on the radio picked up its speed, so did Mabel and Steven, both of them throwing their heads back to accommodate their breathless laughter. For the most part, they remained steady, even if the world around them seemed to spin just as much as they were, though they hardly paid it any mind. Still, for as long as they had been dancing, it only made sense that one of them would trip up eventually, and this time it was Mabel. As the back of her heel happened to catch on one of the floorboards, she began to tumble backwards, inevitably pulling Steven down with her. Still, their laughter didn’t cease even as they crashed to the ground, even as they fell squarely onto each other, even as Steven’s gem lit up with a sudden, but familiar pink light, and even as that light enveloped them both.

In fact, they only continued to laugh as they lay on the floor, breathless but content and heedless of how their laughter sounded a bit… off. Yet as they opened their eyes, they noticed that something was off about their vision as well, though they couldn’t exactly pin down what. Their laughter faded into a curious frown as they lifted a hand up to their eyes, which widened upon noticing that hand was quite a bit larger than it should have been. Still, they waved it up and down, their confusion only doubling upon noticing that it didn’t leave their field of vision even as they lifted it up to their forehead. Bewildered, they slowly reached a finger to their forehead, only to somehow end up poking themselves in the eye.

“Ow!” they exclaimed, bolting upright into a sitting position as they gingerly rubbed the injured eye. “Why is my eye-” they cut themselves off with a gasp upon hearing their own voice clearly, singular, bright, and remarkably different. Still, the eye mystery was far more disconcerting for them, though they soon got their answer to it as they reached their hands to the edges of their head, and without poking any of them out this time, they managed to feel out just how many eyes they actually had. “Four eyes…” they whispered, shocked. “I have four eyes! Wait, I do?! That’s so cool! But how—what—what happened?”

Taken aback, they looked to their hands, seeing that there was only two of them as opposed to four, and two legs as well, both much longer and more shapely than they usually were. Long white socks, akin to the ones Mabel usually wore, reached up almost to their knees, yet somehow they were wearing a pair of pink sandals that were unquestionably Steven’s. By the time they glanced at the blue-violet skirt they were wearing, half of them had managed to piece it together, and as they found the pink stone over their exposed stomach, the inevitable realization dawned upon the other half.

“Oh my gosh…” they breathed, all four of their new eyes huge as their jaw dropped in shock. Still, it didn’t take them long to break out into a smile so huge that it practically made their cheeks hurt. “We FUSED!” A rush of elation filled their newly shared mind and body as they let out a delighted squeal, letting themselves fall back down as they hugged themselves tightly. “We fused, we fused, we fused!” With another loud gasp, they sat up again, looking over to Lion and Waddles, who were both watching them curiously from the couch. “I gotta see what we look like!”

Unable to contain their immense excitement, the fusion placed their hands on the ground and slowly began to bring themselves to a standing position. However, since they weren’t exactly used to their new height, they were quick to end up toppling to the ground once more, thick brown hair falling over their upper set of eyes as they did. “Ok…” they huffed, blowing the hair away. “Let’s try that again…” They did so, managing to unsteadily pull themselves to their full, rather tall height, their legs shaking all the while as they tried to maintain balance. “Hey, look at us!” the fusion exclaimed with a proud grin. “Standing and all that cool junk. We’re doing great already! Now… to the bathroom!” Of course, no more than a second after this resolved proclamation, the fusion ended up tripping over their own two feet, falling to the floor yet again. After several false starts and clumsy trip ups, they miraculously managed to inch their way towards the bathroom, mostly learning how to properly walk by the time they practically fell on top of the sink. Still, despite how haphazard their brief journey had been, the fusion let out an amazed gasp as they glanced up at the mirror and took in their reflection for the first time.

Indeed, they looked like a perfect mix between Steven and Mabel, with a fair complexion, round face, and sure enough, four eyes, the upper pair being a fair bit smaller as they rested evenly above the usual pair. Their hair was a thick abundance of loose, medium-brown curls, coiffed and poofy at the top and pronounced with a pink headband. Aside from the long socks and violet skit, their top was a plush pink sweater, one that cut off at their elbows and at the midriff to reveal their gem. The design on it was a clear mix between the star on Steven’s usual shirt and Mabel’s favorite sweater, a star with colorful streaks pouring out from underneath it. The fusion smiled broadly as they looked over their tall, slender, admittedly appealing form, only to notice something else about their dimpled grin.

“Whoa…” the mused, leaning a bit forward and grinning to get a better view of the glimmering braces on their teeth. “These are new! Heh, yeah, they might take a little getting used to for you... Sorry… What? No way! I think they’re cool! Really? Yeah! Well, I think this is cool! What is? This!” They cut off their one-sided conversation between their two halves as they pointed to themselves. “Us! Just look at us! We look so awesome together! Yeah, we do! I mean, four eyes? That’s at least twice as many eyes as most people have! Which makes us twice as-”

The fusion found themselves being interrupted by the sound of the front door of the house opening. “Mabel! Steven! We’ve back!” Dipper called as him and Connie stepped into the house, both of them toting bags filled with a wide variety of snacks. However, what neither of them saw was the fusion as they tucked into the bathroom corridor, just out of their sight.

“Oh man, this is going to be so great!” they whispered to themselves excitedly. “Dipper and Connie are gonna totally flip out when they get a load of us! We should surprise them! Great idea! Thanks, I knew it was a good one.”

“Ok, so let me see if I’ve got this straight…” Connie said to Dipper as they sat the snacks down in the kitchen, still referring to the Spirit Morph Saga theory they had been discussing ever since they left. “So, according to your theory, the Wizard Wilds were actually a gateway to another dimension that Lisa’s been in this whole time?”

“Yeah,” Dipper nodded firmly. “I mean, it only makes sense in context. Like I said, all the other characters just felt… off after she passed through there. And in my experience, even the smallest thing being off is usually cause for alarm.”

“I think you might have been reading a certain journal a bit too much then,” Connie remarked with a small chuckle, one that Dipper couldn’t help but join in on a beat later. However, their levity was short lived as a certain fusion finally decided to emerge from their hiding place.

“Ta da!” the fusion chimed loudly, leaping out into plain view with an excitable flair. Startled, all Dipper and Connie could initially do was stare at them in absolute bewilderment, but even so, a wide, cheerful smile claimed the fusion’s face as they looked down at the pair. Still, there was only a very brief moment of silence on both sides before the fusion spoke up again. “Oh wait, can we do that again? I feel like our ‘ta da’ was a little flat. Oh, good point, good point. I think this time we should come out with a little more ‘sha-pow!’ or ‘ba-boom!’ Or maybe some-”

“Uh, whoa, hold on,” Dipper cut in, trying to not sound completely dumbfounded, even if him and Connie both very much were. “Before you redo your… uh, ‘grand entrance’, do you mind telling us exactly who you are and how you got in here?”

The fusion gasped, seemingly offended, though they still smiled slyly nonetheless. “Why, Dipper! It hurts that you don’t even recognize your own sister!”

“What?” Dipper raised an eyebrow, looking over the mysterious stranger once again only to realize that the sweater, headband, and braces were all unmistakably familiar. “Mabel?!”

“Well… you’re half right…” the fusion winked, subtly motioning down to the gem on their navel.

“No way…” Connie gasped, her eyes widening in realization. “Steven?!”

“Mm hm,” the fusion nodded, a huge smile on their face as they held their hands behind their back.

“Wait,” Dipper looked to them with newfound shock upon figuring out what was going on. “Did… did you guys-”

“Mm hm!” the fusion cut him off, nodding once again, this time more enthusiastically.

“So…” Connie ventured, her jaw dropped in awe. “So you’re a-”

“Mm hm!”

“And you’re-”

“Mm hm! Mm hm! Mm hm!” the fusion was hopping up and down in unbridled elation by this point. “And it feels great. Oh, you guys can’t even imagine—well, I guess you can, Connie, since you and me—er, Steven have fused before, but still—it’s incredible!”

“Heh, yeah it… it really is…” Connie said with a small, awkward smile, subtly glancing away from the fusion as she rubbed her arm.

“So, what do you guys think?” they asked, twirling around blithely, though almost tripping to the ground in the process. “Don’t we look awesome? Admit it, we totally do.”

“Uh, sure…” Dipper said halfheartedly, still quite bewildered by this strange situation. “So um… why do you guys have four eyes?”

“I dunno,” the fusion shrugged honestly. “But isn’t it neat? Check this out. Now I see you…” they smirked, covering up their upper set of eyes with their hand before moving it down to their lower eyes. “And now I still see you! It’s like some sort of crazy fusion eye magic!” With a bright laugh, the fusion continued shifting their hand between both sets of eyes, blinking and winking and crossing them all the while just for fun. In the midst of this, they didn’t notice Dipper and Connie exchange a perplexed glance, neither of them entirely sure of what to make of the fusion’s sudden appearance and exuberant demeanor. But in the end, Connie was the one to finally break through their fun, a wave of newfound worry washing over her as she looked to the sanguine fusion again.

“Um… Steven? Mabel?”

“Yeah?” the fusion answered, though Connie never got the chance to pose her question as they gasped sharply. “Oh my gosh! Connie, you just reminded me! We don’t even have a cool fusion name for ourselves yet!”

“What are you talking about?” Dipper asked, confused.

“Y’know, like how I—or, Steven and Connie went by Stevonnie when they were fused?” the fusion explained. “I want something like that too! It’ll be way easier than you guys having to call us ‘Steven-and-Mabel’ all the time, at least. So let’s see here…” the fusion’s cheery tone turned thoughtful as they began to pace around the den. “Steven plus Mabel equals… Stabel!” Their excited smile quickly faded upon saying this name out loud. “Huh, that sounded a lot cooler in my head… Or is it our head…? Eh, whatever. Either way, Stabel is out. We can’t go around calling ourselves another word for a barn! No, instead we need something exciting, something really us…”

“Uh… you guys?” Connie tried to get their attention again, only for the fusion to instantly quiet her.

“Shhh!” Stars were in all four of the fusion’s eyes as they let out a softer gasp this time. “I got it! Mabel plus Steven equals… drumroll please!” They looked to Dipper and Connie expectantly, only to receive confused stares in return. “I said: drumroll please!” This time, the pair loosely complied, lightly tapping on the nearby coffee table to create a rather weak drumroll, but still, it was more than enough for the fusion to proclaim their new name by. “Maven!”

“Maven?” Dipper and Connie repeated in puzzled unison.

“You heard me,” the newly-dubbed fusion grinned proudly. “From here on out, just call us Maven! It just sorta rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it? Maven, Ma—ven, Mmmav—en, Mave—ennn, Mav-”

“Maven?” Connie interrupted, using the fusion’s new name rather hesitantly.

“Yeah?” Maven grinned, clearly relishing being called by their shared moniker.

“Uh… well… I was just…” Connie frowned, unsure of how to go about posing this question to the new fusion. After all, a part of her remembered well just how odd and different it felt to be part of a fusion, and the last thing she wanted to do was make either Steven or Mabel as uncomfortable as she had frequently felt that night. So instead, she redacted her question and reshaped it as an observation instead. “Um… you guys sure do seem like you’re having a… a good time together…”

“Good? Are you kidding? We’re having an amazing time!” Maven gushed, ecstatic. “I mean, one minute we were just dancing and laughing and having fun and the next—bam! We’re a totally awesome four-eyed fusion! This has seriously gotta be the best day ever. We’ve only been fused for like, I dunno, how long as it been?”

“Uh, maybe around 15 minutes?” Dipper guessed, checking his watch.

“Whoa, really?” the fusion asked. “It feels like it’s been so much longer! Still, all 15 of those minutes have been some of the funnest I can remember!” To accentuate their point, Maven attempted another twirl, only to end up completely falling this time. Still, they hardly cared as they instead burst into zealous laugher as they lay on the floor, their long hair strewn around them in a haphazard mess. Their laughter only increased as Lion and Waddles both sauntered over to them, both of them gently licking the fusion’s face, somehow recognizing them as the amalgamation of their respective owners.

“Are you guys sure you’re not having a little… too much fun?” Dipper asked, aptly concerned upon seeing Maven go into what was essentially a full-on laughing fit. Still, the fusion was quick to calm down a little, pulling themselves upright into a sitting position as they urged their pink pets away.

“Whaaaat?” they asked, their tone joking and incredulous. “No way! Since when was having ‘too much fun’ ever even a thing? Now, you know what would be fun?”

“Um… actually starting the party we all came here for?” Connie suggested with an admittedly anxious smile.

“Hm, that could be fun…” Maven mused. “But I was thinking of something even funner: taking this fusion show on the road!”

“Uh… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, you guys…” Dipper remarked, looking the fusion up and down skeptically.

“Pfft, come on, Dip-bro,” Maven playfully scoffed. “I know you guys both love me, but you can’t keep all this excitement to yourselves. Now come on!” They quipped, picking themselves off of the floor and rushing to the door, throwing it open with gusto. “The world’s just dying to get its first taste of Mav—ah!” As the fusion attempted to make their way down the steps, their balance was thrown off yet again, their clumsiness showing as they loudly tumbled over the porch railing. Alarmed, Dipper and Connie rushed to make sure they were unharmed, and sure enough, as they looked over the railing, Maven confirmed that they were. “We’re ok!”

“Oh boy…” Dipper sighed tentatively to Connie. “Something tells me that this is gonna be a long day…”

Connie simply frowned as she watched the buoyant fusion easily pick themselves up off the ground, laughing warmly all the while as they wrapped their arms around themselves in something of a tight, celebratory ‘hug’. “Tell me about it…”

The walk down to the Mystery Shack was anything but uneventful as Maven enthusiastically led the way, not sparing any of the countless quips that happened to come to their shared mind. Neither Dipper nor Connie had much of a chance to say anything in edgewise as the fusion recounted in excruciating detail exactly how they fused and how they felt. Aside from externally conversing with themselves, Maven had a bit of a habit of repeating themselves, which was why it ended up taking them most of the walk for them to explain why they unanimously loved their shortened sweater. Their excited banter was only broken up by them occasionally stumbling over their own two feet, a testament to their newfound shared clumsiness, though for the most part they managed to remain standing. Still, by the time they made it to the shack, the fusion had already come up with a rather intricate plan for their first ‘public’ appearance, one that they ended up roping Dipper and Connie into helping them with, even if they were nowhere near as enthusiastic about it as Maven was.

Regardless, the fusion eagerly waited right outside the gift shop entrance as the pair went inside. It was a rather slow business day, so Stan and Soos were really the only ones around, but before either Dipper or Connie could even say a word to them in greeting, Maven ended up bursting in far ahead of their cue. “Did somebody mention Steven and Mabel?!” they chimed, their usual huge smile wide on their face.

“No, because we literally just walked in here,” Dipper deadpanned, giving the fusion a somewhat exasperated look.

“I thought you said you were going to wait at least five minutes before coming in,” Connie added with a frown.

“Oh…” Maven’s excitement dimmed down, but only a little. “Whoops. Dang it! That makes two botched entrances in one day… We gotta step up our game! Oh! I know! We should-”

“Hey, you!” Stan cut in, sending an annoyed scowl at the fusion, clearly not recognizing them. “Tall, loud, and kooky! Close that door, buy something, and get out before I have you run in for having two too many eyes.”

Instead of being offended by this remark, Maven simply let out a boisterous laugh, one that admittedly caught the conman, as well as everyone else off guard. “Oh, Grunkle Pines, you’re so funny!” they chuckled, deriving even more confusion from the others.

“What?” Stan simply asked flatly after a moment of bewildered silence as the fusion walked over to him, heedless of the apparent awkwardness of the moment.

“And whoa, look at that!” Maven gawked, stars in their eyes. “I’m even taller than you are, Mr. Stan! I mean, it’s cool enough being taller than Connie and even more taller than Dipper, but we’re like a giant! You know, in a way, maybe you could even call us a… giant woman! Eh? Eh?”

The fusion’s excitement was once again met with blank stares of bewilderment from both Stan and Soos, while Dipper and Connie merely frowned apprehensively over how carelessly Maven seemed to be presenting themselves. Still, the conman was the one to break the silence, shaking his head to clear his puzzlement away as his usual stoic manner returned. “Alright, someone care to explain what the deal with four eyes over here is?” he asked, not even noticing as the fusion’s usual smile turned to surprise upon hearing this. Fortunately, before they could attempt their own extravagant way of explaining themselves, Dipper cut in and did it for them.

“Uh, well… you see, Grunkle Stan…” he began tentatively, not quite sure how to describe the situation in a way the conman would understand. “That’s sort of… Mabel and Steven… fused together into… the same person…”

“Fused?” Stan raised an incredulously eyebrow as he glanced towards Maven, who’s usual smile had returned in full. “You mean that crazy thing the Gems do with each other where they turn into huge broads with a bunch of eyes and arms?”

“Yep!” Maven beamed proudly. “And this broad just so happens to have four of those! The eyes, I mean. We only have two arms! By the way, what’s a broad?”

“Geez,” Stan rolled his eyes, his aloof scowl returning. “Well, there’s no question about it. That’s definitely Mabel and Steven in there. Nobody else is as goofy or naive as those two.”

“Aw, thank you!” Maven gushed, not fully understanding what the conman had meant. “Though if you want, you can just call me Maven. It’s a lot easier and a lot awesomer.”

“Dudes, this is so cool!” Soos exclaimed as he walked up to the fusion. “You’re like, exactly what I pictured a Steven-Mabel fusion to look like! See?” The handyman grinned as he held up a rather sloppy sketch, one that only bore a very vague semblance to the fusion themselves, but it managed to easily impress them nonetheless.

“Whoa!” Maven gasped, taking the drawing and glancing over it. “It looks just like us!”

“Soos, did you draw a picture of Mabel and Steven fused?” Dipper asked, aptly confused.

“…No reason…” Soos replied tersely, awkwardly stuffing the drawing away into a folder simply labeled ‘fusions’.

“So, you kids aren’t doing anything… weird in there, are ya?” Stan asked, eyeing the fusion up and down suspiciously. While Maven didn’t quite catch onto his train of thought with this question, Dipper and Connie did and both of them were more than flustered enough for the fusion at the mere implication.

“Weird?” Maven asked innocently, raising an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know,” Stan shrugged flippantly. “Like holding hands or hugging or-”

“O-ok!” Connie quickly interrupted, flustered and somewhat angry as she lightly pushed Maven towards the door. “Hey, why don’t we go into town for a while? After all, you did say you wanted to, uh, take your ‘show’ on the road, right?”

“Oh yeah!” the fusion exclaimed brightly, straightening up and heading for the door voluntarily. “You know, I’ve already been planning out meet and greets with everyone in Gravity Falls! Whoa, really? That’ll be great! We’re gonna have to go fast if we wanna say hi to everyone! Eh, I’m sure we’ll have enough time. After all, if I know you, and if I know you, then I know we-”

“Ok, we get it. You guys are excited, what else is new?” Dipper cut in, somewhat annoyed by Maven’s near-constant back-and-forth amongst themselves. Even so, the fusion continued to happily ramble really only to themselves as they stepped outside the shack, Dipper and Connie dully following them and leaving Stan and Soos behind.

“Whoo,” the conman breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad they left when they did. I was worried I was gonna have to give them ‘the talk’.”

“You can always give me ‘the talk’, Mr. Pines,” Soos offered blithely, clearly not gathering what Stan had just implied. “And when you’re done, then I can show you the fusion I drew of you and me!” The handyman pulled out another rough sketch from his fusion folder. “I call him ‘Stoos’!”

“Soos, put that thing away,” Stan cringed upon seeing the drawing, making his opinion of it clear, even if Soos was hardly offended. “It’s making my eyes hurt just looking at it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Pines,” the handyman reassured. “The next version will be even better. Maybe I’ll give us four eyes, just like Maven! That way we can be Super Stoos!”

“Yeah, you go ahead and do that…” Stan deadpanned dryly, heading to the den. “I’ll just… be over here. Way over here…”

Needless to say, Maven was as cordial and talkative as ever as the kids headed into town. As the fusion had planned, they offered a cheerful greeting to every single person they passed by, be they acquaintances or total strangers. Of course, they got plenty of curious stares due to both their odd number of eyes as well as their incredibly lively demeanor. But even so, Maven hardly noticed seeing as how they were having far too much fun to even overhear the bewildered gasps or confused whispers concerning them.

“So I think I’m finally getting the hang of this whole ‘walking without falling’ thing,” Maven remarked to Dipper and Connie as they followed behind them. “There’s really nothing to it once you—ow!” The fusion cut themselves off as they abruptly ran into a pole that they had been too distracted to notice. “Hey now!” they laughed it off, rubbing the sore spot on their head as they stepped past the pole. “Who put you there, you sneaky little pole? Ah well. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah! Walking!”

Undeterred by their clumsiness, Maven continued their chipper monologue, only interrupting themselves to see hello to any new faces they saw. “Yeesh, do those two ever stop talking?” Dipper remarked to Connie with a small, sardonic smirk.

“I heard that, Dipper!” Maven interjected before Connie could respond, though all the same the fusion was grinning wryly. “And you know what I think? I think you might just be a little bit jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah! ‘Cause you’re the only one out of all of us who hasn’t gotten to fuse yet!” Maven goaded. “And you should really try it sometime! No joke, it’s one of the best feelings ever.”

Dipper didn’t reply to this appeal right away, instead glancing the fusion up and down skeptically before tersely looking away. “Uh… no thanks. I’m good.”

A look of slight disappointment filled Maven’s face for a moment, but once again, they were quick to shake the negative emotion off. “You don’t know what you’re missing, but oh well, I guess. More fusion fun for me!”

Jaunty as ever, the fusion skipped on ahead, continuing their parade of greetings, much to Connie’s bewilderment in particular as she watched them casually and sociably interact with everyone they encountered. “How do they do it…?” she asked softly, staring at Maven incredulously, though the fusion didn’t notice. “They make it look so… so easy…”

“Make what look easy?” Dipper asked, having overheard her.

“Being fused!” Connie huffed. “When me and Steven were Stevonnie, it was great, yeah, but were nothing like… like that,” she nodded towards Maven, who was in the midst of heartily shaking Mr. Smiley’s hand. “We were shy and scared and… awkward. So why was Stevonnie so anxious when Maven’s so… so not anxious?”

“Well they are made up of two of the biggest social butterflies, like, ever,” Dipper pointed out. “Still, I’m sort of getting the feeling that maybe they were wrong about me being the jealous one here…”

“What?!” Connie scoffed, offended. “I am not jealous of them!”

“Whoa, calm down,” Dipper said with a small laugh. “I was just kidding. To be honest, I kind of agree with you. ‘Maven’ is… well, they’re a lot to handle. If we’re lucky, then Steven and Mabel will probably just end up wearing themselves out and split up before they get too out of control.”

“I hope so…” Connie muttered, sending a small, brief, almost resentful glance the fusion’s way.

All the same, Maven was still effectively in their own little world, though their already constant excitement only doubled upon seeing a familiar pair heading down the street in their direction. “Candy! Grenda!” they shouted exuberantly, running on ahead to greet the girls. “Hi, guys! Notice anything different about us?” They laughed, twirling blithely and not noticing Candy and Grenda exchange a befuddled glance of apt confusion.

“Who are you, you mysterious, sparkly stranger?” Candy asked curiously, noting the glitter that covered the fusion from when Steven and Mabel had thrown it over themselves earlier.

“And where did you get that adorable sweater?!” Grenda asked in her usual boisterous way.

Maven simply laughed once more, quite used to people not recognizing them by now. “Both of those questions have a pretty simple answer that’s totally gonna blow your minds!” they exclaimed with a dazzling grin. “You see, girls, I’m what happens when you take a Steven and a Mabel and fuse them together into an awesomely magical, always loveable Maven!”

“Whaaaat?!” Candy and Grenda asked in stunned unison, looking to the fusion in incredulous amazement upon hearing their astonishing claim.

“Crazy, I know, but it’s completely true!” Maven smirked broadly. “And if you don’t take my word for it, just ask Dipper and Connie. They were there!”

“No, we weren’t,” Dipper clarified. “We showed up right after you guys fused, remember?”

“Oh, right,” the fusion shrugged. “Eh, close enough.”

“You two look incredible together!” Candy quipped to Maven, clearly impressed.

“I know, right?” Maven smirked confidently. “I’m like, the total package! Beauty, brawn, and… uh… that third thing!”

“Brains?” Connie suggested dryly.

“Ew, no!” the fusion stuck their tongue out. “We don’t have brains all over us. That would be gross!”

“Oh my gosh, you guys! Oh my gosh!” Grenda interjected with a huge gasp. “I just realized something awesome! You guys fusing is just like me and Candy when we fuse into Grendy!”

“Whoa, you guys can fuse?!” Maven asked, awestruck, even though Dipper and Connie were quick to exchange a doubtful glance.

“Yes!” Candy readily agreed. “Allow us to demonstrate.” With a large smile, she began to climb up Grenda’s back, easily perching herself upon the larger girl’s shoulders. They were still a good bit shorter than the actual fusion, but even so, Maven was quite impressed.

“Wow!” they gasped, stars in their eyes as they looked the other ‘fusion’ up and down. “And I thought our fusion was cool! You guys make such a beautiful fusion!”

“They can’t be serious…” Dipper remarked to Connie, both of them aptly bewildered by the fusion’s bizarre excitement.

“It’s very nice to meet you, ‘Grendy’,” Maven winked as they shook Candy’s hand.

“Nice to meet you too, ‘Maven’!” Grenda and Candy attempted to say in unison, though they did stumble up a bit, though the fusion only chuckled warmly in response. However, this levity happened to catch the attention of a certain heiress who was passing by, and as usually, she didn’t hesitate to throw a scathing remark the group’s way.

“Hey, Candy!” Pacifica called as she walked past, smirking haughtily all the while. “How’d you manage to hitch a piggyback ride from a real pig? Ha!”

The girls’ shared cheerful mood was instantly shattered upon hearing this biting insult, and without even a word in edgewise, Candy slowly dismounted from Grenda’s shoulders. Still, even if they didn’t have anything to throw back at the heiress, Maven was more than prepared to do the job for them. “Hey!” the fusion shouted, pouting impetuously. “That was a really mean thing to say, Pacifica!”

“Oh really?” the heiress turned to face Maven, a brief look of bewilderment washing over her expression before it returned to her usual smug scowl. “Uh, have we met before? Because I’m pretty sure I’d remember meeting an oversized, loud-mouthed, four-eyed freak like you.”

For a moment, the fusion’s eyes widened with what seemed to be hurt, but they were quick to shake it off in the midst of their righteous frustration. “You haven’t met me me before, but if you know Steven and Mabel, then you know me,” Maven paused for an awkward moment before clarifying. “Mostly because I am them. Fused together. By the way, its ok to be impressed by how great we are. Honestly, I would be too.”

“Are you kidding me?” Pacifica scoffed, raising an eyebrow upon hearing this. But all the same, this information gave her more than enough ammunition to tease them with. “Who would ever be impressed with you?”

“Oh, lots of people,” Maven grinned. “For starters, these two were pretty impressed,” they nodded to Dipper and Connie, who could only glance at the fusion somewhat worriedly. “And so were Soos and Grunkle Pines. And when the Gems get back I’m sure they’ll be super wowed by us too!”

“Yeah, well I’m not,” Pacifica rolled her eyes. “I mean, just look at you. You look like you’re a teenager but you’re dressed like you’re five. Your hair’s just one big frizzy mess desperately in need of some conditioner. And as for those four eyes of yours? I don’t even think I need to say that they’re downright creepy.”

“W-what?” Maven asked, their usual cheery demeanor diminishing quite a bit upon being verbally thrashed in such a way.

“And honestly,” the heiress continued, heedless of her hurtful words. “If you really are some weird fusion of Mabel and Steven, then that just makes you an even bigger walking disaster.”

Maven seemed to shrink back a little upon hearing this, their expression conveying both surprise and distress, as though Pacifica had physically injured them instead of emotionally. And oddly enough, the fusion didn’t even have any sort of retort to any of it, instead glancing down meekly as they tried to reconcile the matter between themselves silently. Which was why both Dipper and Connie unanimously decided that it was time for them to intervene.

“Hey, Pacifica, why don’t you back off already?” Dipper asked hotly, sending the heiress a cross glare.

“Seriously, what’s your problem?” Connie asked, just as incensed. “Maven didn’t even do anything to you, so leave them alone!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that something weird always happens whenever you guys are around,” Pacifica scowled. “You know, I’m surprised that you two haven’t ‘fused’ into the world’s biggest nerd yet.”

This insult hardly even phased Dipper or Connie seeing as how they were both too mutually frustrated by the heiress’s callous manner and especially by her harsh treatment towards the fusion. “Say you’re sorry,” Dipper said rigidly, eliciting yet another scoff from Pacifica.

“What? To you two? Ha, as if.”

“Not to us,” Connie glowered. “To them.” She pointed at Maven, now standing behind them, still uncharacteristically silent and morose.

“Oh, sure,” the heiress deadpanned. “I’ll be sure to do that as soon as I-” Pacifica abruptly cut herself off, her smug smirk turning into a look of surprise upon stealing another glance at the fusion. Maven held onto themselves in a tight, protective embrace, their mouth buried into the collar of their sweater as they looked away fretfully. Though what oddly enough got the heiress to finally change her teasing tone was the transparent tears welling up in all four of the fusion’s eyes. “Whoa,” Pacifica breathed, her own eyes wide and filled with incoming regret. “Uh, I didn’t mean to… Look, you guys aren’t… I… Um…” she trailed off, letting out a remorseful sigh as she looked away herself. “Sorry.”

Upon hearing this, Maven finally glanced up, letting out a small sniffle as they hurried to wipe their first few tears away. The fusion was surprisingly quick to bounce back, and in mere seconds they were back to their usual perky selves. “Aw, don’t worry about it, Pacifica!” they beamed, looking as though they had never let sadness overtake them at all. “I know you really didn’t mean any of that! Besides I know it’s kind of hard to find the right words to describe a super cool fusion like me.”

“Uh… yeah…” Pacifica said stiffly, still not making eye contact with the fusion out of guilt. “I… I’m just gonna… go…”

“Bye, Pacifica!” Maven called out after the heiress as she awkwardly departed. “We’ll have to meet up for another game of mini-golf sometime soon! Hopefully we won’t run into any murderous living golf balls next time!”

“Ugh,” Connie groaned after Pacifica was out of earshot. “You know, you’d think that whole disaster would have taught her not to be such a little-” She cut herself off as Maven suddenly placed a hand on both her and Dipper’s shoulders. They both glanced up at the fusion curiously, only to see them stifling a huge, grateful smile by biting their lip.

“Uh… you guys?” Dipper frowned in confusion upon seeing this, but before he could question their sudden elation further, Maven suddenly knelt down to their level and wrapped them both into a tight, practically crushing hug.

“I knew it!” the fusion gushed, refusing to relinquish their embrace with the startled pair. “I knew you guys really do like me!”

“W-what?” Connie asked, finding it somewhat hard to breathe with Maven holding onto them so tightly. “Of course we like you! We always have. I mean, you are Steven and Mabel after all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Maven finally let them go, though they were still kneeling to remain on eye level with the pair. “But I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about me: Maven! I could tell you guys were a little iffy on me when you first saw me, but after how you just came to my rescue like that, now I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you two really like me on my own! Which is just… so… great!” Unable to contain their building delight, the fusion pulled Dipper and Connie into yet another hug, not even noticing the concerned glance they were exchanging all the while, especially in light of the confusing, rather alarming points that Maven had just implied.

“Uh, yeah…” Dipper said apprehensively as Connie let out a small, awkward, forced laugh. “It’s… great…”

For the remainder of the afternoon, Maven continued their excitable trip around town, stopping at all of Steven and Mabel’s respective favorite spots, including the Big Donut, the ice cream shop, Gravity Fries, the pet store, and more. Of course, Dipper and Connie tagged along, mostly for the sake of making sure that the boisterous fusion didn’t accidentally get themselves into any trouble, but the entire affair was punctuated with an underlying sense of worry that neither of them dared to bring up to Maven themselves. Still, neither of them could deny that they were concerned. Seeing as how they had been fused since that morning, Maven had already surpassed the amount of time Stevonnie had been fused for, a fact that bothered Connie in particular. And yet even so, they showed no signs nor made any mention of wanting or needing to split up, almost as if they had no intentions of doing so at all. As a matter of fact, they were still going strong by the time the group returned to the shack as the sun was just starting to go down.

“Woo!” Maven exclaimed, contentedly plopping themselves down onto the couch on the porch. “Some day, huh? I know we kind of missed out on our party, but if you ask me, this a ton more fun! Don’t you guys think so?”

“Uh… yeah…” Connie dully nodded along with Dipper, both of them looking away from the fusion. “Well, it’s getting late. My parents will be expecting me home soon…”

“Aw, already?” Maven frowned. “But we were having such a great time! Are you sure you gotta go, Connie?”

“Yeah, I really should…” Connie shrugged, finally glancing towards the fusion with a sense of newfound hopefulness. “And… I was kind of hoping to say goodbye to Steven and Mabel before I left…”

“Oh,” Maven leaned forward, their expression innocent and oblivious. “Ok, bye!”

“Uh… I don’t think that’s what she meant, guys,” Dipper interjected, crossing his arms.

“Huh?” the fusion raised a confused eyebrow before turning back to Connie. “Then… what did you mean?”

“I mean I want you to-” she cut brusquely herself off, biting her lip anxiously. She had no idea how to phrase this in a way that wouldn’t offend or hurt either of them, which is what blurting out how she really felt about the situation would certainly do. So instead, she continued awkwardly dancing around it in the hopes that they’d comply. “I… I meant… I wanted to say goodbye to both of you: Steven and Mabel.”

“Ohhhh I get it!” Maven exclaimed with newfound supposed understanding, rising from their seat. For a moment, Dipper and Connie looked to them in anticipation, but their hopes were quickly dashed as the fusion remained just that and merely pulled Connie into a fond, farewell embrace. “Bye, Connie! Have a great night! We’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Uh… yeah…” Connie replied halfheartedly, clearly disappointed as the hug dissipated and she turned to leave. “See you guys… tomorrow…”

Maven continued to cheerfully wave after Connie as she headed off, heedless of the disapproving look Dipper was sending them until they happened to steal a glance down at him. “What?” they asked, not understanding his apparent exasperation.

“Um, don’t you guys think you’ve been at this for… long enough?” he asked, trying his best to tread carefully with what he said.

“At what?” the fusion asked, though there were quick to glean what he meant. “Oh, you mean being fused? Come on, Dip-bro! We’re barely even getting started! I at least gotta stick around long enough to show the Gems when they get back tomorrow!”

“So… what? You two are just gonna stay fused overnight then?”

Maven paused, taking an apparent moment to consider this possibility before reaching their unanimous conclusion. “I don’t see why we can’t,” they shrugged blithely. “It’ll be just like a slumber party!”

“Wait, you’re not serious, are you?” Dipper asked, looking to the fusion dubiously.

“Well, of course we are! And this slumber party will be even better than our last one since hopefully this time Lion won’t barge in and try to sleep on your face! Plus, I’ve never slept as a fusion before… What if we end up having the same dream? Oh my gosh, that would be so awesome! I really hope we do!” Maven continued to excitedly ramble to themselves as they headed inside the shack, already coming up with plans for their latest slumber party. Dipper followed not too far behind them, letting out a tired sigh as he silently hoped the evening would go by quickly.

Unfortunately, the evening went by anything but quickly for Dipper, though for Maven, it passed far too fast. Fueled by their seemingly boundless energy and ecstasy, the fusion launched themselves into the array of festive activities they had planned, from baking cookies, to mixing together a new take on Mabel juice that they aptly called “Maven juice”, to sneaking Lion into the shack so he could join the cuddle session they were having with Waddles, to trying on different pairs of sunglasses over both sets of eyes. By the time they finally decided to start settling down and getting ready for bed, they had managed to fill at least several pages of Mabel’s scrapbook with a colorful retelling of their self-proclaimed “fusion fun”. Fun that they had every intention of continuing into the next day after a good night’s sleep.

“Hm…” Maven mused, holding Mabel’s usual night shit up to themselves and seeing that it was a good deal too small for them to fit into. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to sleep in our sweater for tonight. That’s not a problem. It’s so cozy, after all! No wonder you wear these things all the time! Heh, yeah, they are pretty great, aren’t they?”

As the fusion continued to converse to themselves, Dipper subtly observed them whilst sitting in bed, pretending to read the journal, though even so, he kept his pressing concerns to himself, just as he had for most of the evening. Yet at the same time, he was quickly starting to come to the conclusion that perhaps it would be better to finally present them to Maven, especially after spending the past several hours of watching their unbridled enthusiasm run amok. The lengthy stint of their fusion’s stay, as well as their general intensity and apparent disregard for anything aside from themselves as certainly alarming. In fact, all of those things combined had Dipper admittedly worried for what the long-term effects on both Mabel and Steven might be, even if he didn’t have the experience in fusion himself to know if it was potentially harmful at all. Still, as Maven continued to ready themselves for bed, he decided that perhaps it was time to at the very least bring the matter up to them.

“Uh, Maven?” Dipper spoke up, still not quite used to calling them by their shared name.

“What’s up, Dip-bro?” Maven brightly replied, spinning around to face him with a bright smile.

Dipper hesitated before continuing, largely out of the fear that what he was about to ask could very well offend them, which was honestly the last thing he wanted to do. Still, he knew that this had to be addressed. “Um… so exactly how long do you guys plan on keeping this up for?”

“What, you mean being fused?” the fusion asked, stretching out a bit. “I dunno. Till whenever, I guess. I figure we’ll just keep riding it out for as long as it feels good. And to be honest, it still feels pretty darn good.”

“Ok but… you know you can’t stay fused forever… right?” Dipper asked tentatively.

Now it was Maven’s turn to take pause, their four-eyed gaze subtly shifting downward as they offered a hasty response. “Oh, uh, yeah, I know. But, for right now, I really don’t see any problems with us staying like this. We’re all having a great time, everything’s great, we’re all great! So… yeah! No worries!”

“Well… I kind of can’t help but be a little worried about you guys…” Dipper admitted with an apprehensive frown. “I mean, the Gems said so themselves; this whole humans and Gems fusing thing is totally new territory. We still don’t know if there’s any crazy side effects to it or not. I just… don’t want to see either of you guys get hurt…”

A look of immense concern washed over the fusion’s face upon hearing this, but once again, they were quick to chase it away and return to their normal sense of complacency without a hitch. “Aw, don’t be silly, Dipper!” they scoffed with a small, reassuring laugh. “We’re not gonna get hurt just from being fused! I think that you’re maybe being just a little paranoid, but I guess that’s usual.” Maven let out another light chuckle as Dipper simply rolled his eyes, somewhat frustrated by their refusal to take him (or anything else for that matter) seriously. “Still, we feel fine. Better than fine, actually, we feel-”

“Let me guess,” Dipper interrupted with a dejected sigh. “Great?”

“You got it!” the fusion exclaimed, winking with both sets of their eyes. Their cheeriness did diminish a little though as they took notice of Dipper’s rather crestfallen expression, one that a part of them couldn’t help but feel somehow strangely responsible for. “But hey!” they added, speaking without really thinking. “Uh, if it’ll make you feel better, we’ll… we’ll, uh… we’ll unfuse after the Gems get back to tomorrow. Does that sound ok?”

“Really?” Dipper asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow at them though there was clear hopefulness in his tone. “You guys really mean that?”

“Um… o-of course we do!” Maven laughed awkwardly, conspicuously hiding their hands behind their back. And with good reason too, seeing as it kept their tightly crossed fingers conveniently out of Dipper’s sight. “I… I promise.”

Fortunately for the fusion, Dipper seemed to buy this as he let out a relieved sigh and closed the journal for the night. “Well, that’s good. You guys probably need a break from each other by now anyway, right?”

“Uh… maybe?” the fusion somewhat lied, knowing that their two halves were anything but tired of each other. If anything, the longer they remained together, the more they wanted to remain so. But given the nature of the ongoing conversation, they suddenly felt as though they couldn’t admit that. So instead, they simply walked over to Mabel’s bed, flopping down onto it and instantly noticing that their long legs dangled over the edge by quite a bit. “Aw, the bed’s too short!”

“Well, given that you guys are like, 6 feet tall now, I could have told you that a twin-sized bed wasn’t going to be the most comfortable fit,” Dipper deadpanned with a small, amused smile as he turned the attic light out. “Good night.”

“Yeah…” Maven frowned, for the first time feeling uncomfortable and out of place as they curled up into a ball under the covers just so they could fit under them. “Good… good night…”

Despite their brief bout of insecurity the previous night, Maven had, as usual, bounced back to their usual perky, overzealous self by the time they woke up, still fused, the next morning. A fact that Dipper found out the hard way as the fusion abruptly and excitedly shook him awake. “Dipper, wake up! Wake up, Dipper! Wake up!” Maven practically shouted, pulling on his arm in an attempt to rouse him.

Of course, Dipper couldn’t very easily remain asleep with the fusion essentially yelling right in his ear, so instead he groggily sat up and wiped the seep from his eyes. “Ok, ok, I’m up-”

“Get up already!” Maven exclaimed obliviously, grabbing him by the shoulders now as they continued to shake up. “We gotta hurry! The Gems will be back from their mission any minute now! I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they see us, they’re gonna go nuts!”

“I think I might know somebody who’s already there…” Dipper remarked as Maven finally let him get out of bed. Still, he could hardly be bitter towards the fusion, especially upon remembering the reassuring promise they had made last night.

“Come on, come on! We gotta go!” Maven barely gave Dipper any time to put his hat or vest on before grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him along after them. It was apparently still quite early in the morning as they were already out the door of the shack before Stan was up to open for business. Though Dipper was clearly having a hard time keeping up with the excited fusion as they ran all the way up to the temple, Maven didn’t slow their pace for a second, not wanting to miss the Gems’ arrival. And sure enough, they didn’t, bursting into the house just as the warp pad lit up and the Gems returned.

“Steven!” Pearl called with a contented smile. “We’re back!” The white Gem opened her eyes to glance around for the young Gem, but instead of finding him, all three of the Gems were met with a familiar yet unfamiliar figure eagerly standing a few feet away from the warp pad. “Wha-?”

“Hi, guys!” Maven greeted with a chipper smile and wave, scarcely able to hold back their delight, though they did for the sake of remaining inconspicuous.

“Uh… who the heck are you supposed to be?” Amethyst asked, hopping off the warp pad to tentatively approach the fusion. However, before Maven could begin to explain themselves, Dipper finally made it to the temple himself, quite tired after having essentially chased them all the way up the hill.

“O-ok!” he exclaimed breathlessly, having to lean against the door to regather his bearings. “I made it. What did I miss?”

“Like pretty much everything,” Maven rolled their eyes good-naturedly. “Try and keep up next time, Dip-bro.”

“Dipper,” Pearl spoke up with a befuddled frown. “Do you know this… person?” her tone became even more confused as she glanced towards the beaming fusion.

“Uh yeah?” Dipper shrugged. “They’re-”

“Shhh!” Maven abruptly cut him off. “I want them to guess! Though really, it’s not that hard of a guess once you take a look at the clues…” Their smile widened as they pointed towards both their gem and their braces, looking towards the Gems expectantly all the while. The trio was admittedly stumped, or at least, Amethyst and Pearl were, until the purple Gem finally managed to piece it together.

“No way!” she gasped loudly, her jaw dropping in surprise. “Steven? And Mabel?”

“Maven,” Garnet interjected, already knowing their shared name thanks to her future vision.

“Ding ding! Correct!” Maven cheered, clasping their hands together happily. “Amethyst, since you guessed it first, you win!”

“Oh yeah?” Amethyst smirked, crossing her arms. “Win what?”

“Uh… a high five from me!”

“Eh, good enough,” the purple Gem shrugged, accepting the fusion’s high five with an amused laugh.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Pearl cut in, looking to Maven incredulously. “You mean to say that you two—you two being Steven and Mabel… fused?”

“Yep!” Maven grinned proudly. “And aren’t we awesome at it? I mean, check us out! We even have extra eyes and everything, just like you guys get when you fuse!” The Gems exchanged a stilted glance at this, none of them quite sure what to think, but even so the fusion continued with a gasp of realization. “Oh my gosh! I just thought of something! Technically, I’m a Gem now too, just like you! And if we have your Gem, then that means we can break that flashy shield out, can’t we? Oh yeah! It’s worth a try, at least! Then let’s do it! Maven Fusion Weapon Summoning Powers… go!”

With this bold proclamation, the fusion held their arm out, eagerly anticipating that the iconic pink shield would appear over it. And though nothing initially happened, Maven was more than prepared to try again. “I said go!” they shouted once more, glancing down to their gem this time only to see it was still bereft of any sort of glow. “Go!” Their determined expression turned to one of disgruntled confusion, their arm lowering as they reached towards their gem. “I wonder if I’m not saying the right thing… I don’t think that’s how it works… It’s more like… a feeling. What kind of feeling? I… haven’t really figured that out yet… But it’s a good feeling, whatever it is! Oh, sort of like how we feel? Yeah! A lot like that actually…” Maven trailed off into a warm smile, though it was short lived as they noticed their gem finally start to shine in its lustrous pink light.

“T-they… they can’t really summon the shield while they’re fused…” Pearl whispered to Garnet, clinging onto her arm tightly amidst her almost disturbed confusion. “Can they?”

“It’s not just the shield,” the Gem leader replied, her stoic expression fixed as she watched the fusion’s face light up with excited awe while an entirely new weapon materialized in their hand. “It’s a-”

“Grappling shield!” Maven exclaimed with huge smile, holding their very unique, somewhat odd weapon up for everyone to see. Indeed, it couldn’t really be described as anything else but a grappling shield. Its body and barrel looked largely normal, aside from its deep pink shade and the familiar rose insignia on its side, the sake colorful trail that poured from the star on the fusion’s sweater streaking out from it. However, its defining feature was clearly the miniaturized version of Steven’s shield attached to it in place of a hook, tethered to the barrel with a sturdy, thorny rope. The entire weapon seemed to sparkle and glimmer continually, something that excited Maven even more as they looked over it admiringly.

“A grappling shield?” Dipper repeated incredulously. “How are you supposed to use that as a weapon?”

“Like this!” the fusion exclaimed, taking aim with a daring grin. Not putting too much care into accuracy, Maven fired the shield off, watching with delight as it slung forward and darted across the house with each broad swing of the barrel they made. The Gems were just quick enough to leap out of the way as the shield darted towards them, ricocheting off of the warp pad and towards the kitchen. In the process, it ended up crashing into the microwave door, easily shattering it before the shield zoomed over to the loft, tearing right through the pillows on the bed and sending feathers flying everywhere. Maven panicked somewhat at the unintentional damage they were causing, which was why they were quick to yank the shield back towards them. By the time the shield zipped back into its original position against the barrel, it had made quite a mess, something that the fusion could only let out a small, awkward laugh over. “Heh, whoops! Guess this thing can really pack a punch, huh?”

“Could you two please be a bit more careful?” Pearl asked, already fretting over the mess. “I know this is new for both of you, but still try to exercise some form of self control, ok?”

“Aw, don’t worry, Pearl!” Maven smirked as they casually twisted the barrel of the grappling shield around in their hand. “I totally got this-” The fusion was abruptly interrupted as the weapon suddenly fired, the shield flying out and its flat face smacking them squarely against the head. The force of it was enough to knock Maven completely to the ground hard, much to the alarm of the Gems and Dipper, but sure enough, the fusion was quick to recover, like always. “I-I’m ok!” they assured, haphazardly picking themselves up as they rubbed the new sore spot on their head while the grappling shield disappeared into a brief burst of sparkles.                                                                                                                                                            

“Pffft, oh my gosh, dude, you are hilarious,” Amethyst laughed hard at the fusion’s antics, catching a small look of ire from Pearl, though she hardly cared. “Steven and Mabel should have fused a long time ago! Maven’s a total riot!”

“Yeah, I am!” Maven brightly agreed. “I’m just full of laughs! And charm, and excitement, and a bunch of other stuff! Aren’t I, Dipper?”

“Oh, you’re full of something…” Dipper muttered sarcastically, crossing his arms as he looked away from the fusion.

“So, when exactly did this happen?” Pearl asked, giving Maven a scrutinizing glance. “Did you two fuse just a few minutes ago, before we got back?”

“Nope,” Maven shook their head. “It happened yesterday morning right after you guys left. And we’ve been keeping this fusion party rolling ever since!”

“W-what?!” the white Gem gaped, aghast. “Y-you’ve been fused… since yesterday?! T-that’s… unheard of, especially for a first time fusion! A few hours is understandable, but an entire day and night?! There’s no telling what effect that could have on either of you! Clearly, you two need to un-”

“Pearl,” Garnet cut in just in time, calming her teammate with a firm hand on her shoulder. “I’ll handle this.”

Though they had been caught somewhat off guard by Pearl’s sudden alarm, Maven was quick to perk up again as the Gem leader stepped up to them. “Hi, Garnet!” they greeted brightly, their hands behind their back as they smiled up at her.

“Hello, Maven,” Garnet replied, her tone even, gentle, yet steady. The Gem leader didn’t say anything else after this though, as she instead seemed to start staring the fusion down. Maven’s smile quickly faded at this, and without really meaning to, they shifted rather uncomfortably under Garnet’s shade-obscured, yet still intent gaze.

“Uh… Garnet?” they frowned apprehensively. “I-is something wrong?”

The Gem leader still didn’t answer right away, but when she did, she let out a deep breath, as if to harden her resolve. “There’s something you both should know about fusion…” she began tentatively.

“Oh, what? You mean that it’s amazing?” Maven asked, their smile somewhat returning. “Because we already knew that! In fact, it-”

“No,” Garnet held her hand up in an unspoken command for the fusion to remain silent and let her speak her piece. “When we fuse, most of the time, we do it for the sake of a mission or a goal. It allows us to work off of each other’s strengths and become beings greater than ourselves. And that’s exactly why it feels so ‘amazing’. The excitement that you’re feeling is exactly what you’re supposed to feel. It means that your bond is stable, strong, healthy. And as a result, so is your fusion.”

“Aw, thanks so much!” Maven beamed happily, wrapping their arms around themselves. “You know, I knew we-”

“But,” the Gem leader interrupted once more, her tone shifting somewhat. “There is a danger to that excitement, and to fusion itself, one that, due to your lack of experience with it, you both might be at risk of.”

The fusion’s eyes widened, a small hint of fear flashing over their expression upon hearing this. “W-what is it?” they asked, their usually loud voice but a mere whisper now.

“Losing yourselves,” Garnet answered simply, though she did elaborate upon noticing Maven’s clear confusion. “For some Gems, but not all, the longer they remain fused, the more their individual personalities begin to fade away into the fusion. And if they stay together for too long… then those personalities…”

“They… they disappear?” Dipper guessed, growing even more worried for both Mabel and Steven as Garnet only nodded gravely in response.

Maven themselves sucked in a sharp breath at this confirmation, their expression awash with confusion, dread, fear, and far too many other emotions, none of which they really knew how to handle. But right before they let those pressing emotions rise to the surface, they quickly shook their head clear, pulling themselves to their full height as they pushed their incoming anxiety away. Just like they always did. “Whaaaat?” Maven asked, forcing out a scoffing laugh. “Come on, guys, you know us! We’re not gonna ‘lose ourselves’ or anything like that! We’re totally fine! I mean, we’ve only been fused for a day. And we can just unfuse any time we want to!”

“Oh, you mean like right now?” Dipper asked, glancing up at the fusion incredulously. “After all, you guys did promise that you’d unfuse after you showed the Gems, so…”

“Oh, uh… yeah, I guess I did…” Maven frowned, awkwardly scratching the back of their neck. “But um… w-we should probably wait for Connie to get here first! You know… j-just because…”

“Because what?” Dipper raised an eyebrow, already getting the feeling that the fusion wasn’t going to uphold their bargain.

“Just because, ok?!” Maven exclaimed, somewhat frustrated. They instantly let out a startled gasp as soon as they said this though, especially upon seeing the unimpressed look Garnet was giving them. “Uh… I… I mean-”

“Maven, listen,” Garnet said, her tone patient as she placed a hand on the fusion’s shoulder. “I’m not going to tell you that you have to unfuse. That’s your choice, and not anyone else’s. But I do want you to just remember what I said. When the time is right, you’ll both know what is for the best.”

“Uh… y-yeah…” Maven unsteadily agreed, their hands in tight fists at their sides as they swallowed hard. Upon hearing the Gem leader’s warning, the fusion could tell that something suddenly felt off for both of their respective halves, something that might have always been there but had only been unnoticeable until now. But as for what that something was… they had no idea. “We… we’ll know…”

Upon arriving at the shack later that morning, Connie was both surprised and somewhat disappointed to see that Maven was still around, though much like Dipper was, she mostly kept her peace about it. Still, it was basically impossible for her not to start worrying about the situation even more as the fusion hotly recounted what Garnet had told them earlier.

“And then she told us that we might ‘lose ourselves’,” Maven ranted as they paced around the den, Dipper and Connie dully listening to them as they sat on the couch. “Which is crazy because who’s more us than us!? But I told her I’m fine and I am! I mean, I look fine, don’t I?”

“Uh… sure,” Connie frowned, noting how the fusion did look somewhat out of sorts amidst their apparent aggravation. “But… you guys are going to unfuse eventually… aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah, ‘eventually’,” the fusion assented, even if their tone was quite noncommittal. “For right now I’m just… waiting for the right moment to split up. I don’t wanna rush this sort of thing, you know.”

“And you guys really aren’t worried about what Garnet was saying actually happening?” Dipper asked tentatively. “You know, that whole thing were your personalities basically just disappear?”

“Of course, they’re not!” Maven scoffed, crossing their arms. “They’re both still in here, in me! And I’m totally in control, just like I have been from the beginning and just like I’m going to stay until… until whenever!”

Connie and Dipper exchanged an aptly concerned glance upon hearing the fusion’s odd phrasing of this incensed proclamation, and they didn’t hesitate to question them on it. “‘They’?” Connie asked, raising a confused eyebrow.

Maven froze, their eyes widening as they quickly tried to correct themselves. “I-I meant we. We’re both still in here.” The fusion paused, noticing the questioning, doubtful look that both Dipper and Connie were sending them. “Oh come on, guys! Quit worrying about me! Like I keep telling you, I’m fine, really!”

“If you say so…” Dipper sighed, finally seeming to relent. It was merely a ruse though, one that the fusion bought as they smiled, allayed for the moment, clearly not wanting to address the pressing matter at hand any longer. “Hey, Connie? Do you mind helping me grab something from the kitchen really quick?”

“Uh, sure,” Connie nodded, somewhat understanding his intent with this sudden request. “We’ll be right back,” she told the fusion, who simply nodded cheerfully as they plopped down onto the recliner.

“Ok, but don’t take too long in there, you two!” they called after the pair as they stepped into the other room. “I have big plans for a lot more fusion fun today and I wanna get started on them as soon as possible!” Almost as soon as they had brightly relayed this message, however, Maven’s smile quickly faded, their four-eyed gaze drifting down to their hands resting in their lap. They still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and the more they thought about it, the more they realized that this feeling was far from new. In fact, it had started plaguing them as early as yesterday, really only a few hours into their fusion. And only now were they starting to realize what it was. When they had first fused, they could both feel each other within their new form, fully and entirely, as though they were sitting beside each other and holding hands. Both of the halves that composed them manifested themselves so clearly, through words, actions, and even conversation amongst themselves. There was a clear divide between where Steven ended and Mabel began and vice versa, one that the fusion had been content and comfortable with amidst their mutual excitement. But the longer they remained fused, the more Maven stopped feeling that clear divide, almost as if it was thinning out entirely. The back and forth between them had gradually lessened, to the point that their shared streams of consciousness had almost become singular. It was almost as if the two halves of their whole had gone quiet, or instead, they had fused into one internal voice, much like their bodies already had. In a strange, almost frightening sense, it was almost as if they had-

Maven let out a soft, audible gasp, quickly steering their mind away from the thought before it could even be completed. Of course, they weren’t disappearing. If they were disappearing, then that meant that they were losing themselves, and if they were losing themselves, then that would mean that they weren’t in control. But they were in control; they had said so themselves and they firmly believed it. This was their fusion and they could handle it. They could stop any time they wanted to.

The only problem was… they didn’t really want to.

Maven was soon broken out of their deep musing however, upon overhearing brief, quiet snippets of Dipper and Connie’s conversation in the kitchen. And even from what few bits and pieces of words and sentences they could hear, it was more than enough to tell the fusion that the conversation was focused on them: “-out of hand-”, “-too long-”, “-losing themselves-”, “-unfuse-”. That final word, one that came from Connie, was what at last prompted Maven to stand up, and, as if guided by mere dread alone, sneak over towards the kitchen, hiding themselves just on the other side of the wall so they could eavesdrop on what the pair was saying.

“Knowing them, the last thing they’re gonna wanna do is unfuse,” Dipper said, his tone quite exasperated. “Every time someone so much as brings it up to them, they just shrug it off or dance around it, like it’s not even an option for them.”

“Yeah, it needs to be their only option!” Connie huffed, distressed. “It’s for their own good! If they don’t, then they’ll be gone and we’ll just be stuck with… ‘Maven’ forever!”

“And what’s so bad about that?!” Maven spoke up, their tone already quite upset as they emerged from behind the wall.

“Y-you guys!” Dipper exclaimed in apt surprise. “We… we didn’t know you were-”

“I don’t understand!” the fusion quickly cut him off, their expression both angry and morose. “Yesterday… You guys… I thought… I thought you two actually liked me for me, and not just because of what I’m made of! But now I guess the truth comes out… you guys hate me!”

“Ugh, seriously?” Dipper exclaimed, not hiding his frustration with the fusion this time. “How do you still not get it?”

“Get what?”

“Maven,” Connie began, her tone a good bit softer than Dipper’s, but still quite adamant. “We don’t hate you. It’s just… we really miss Steven and Mabel.”

“B-but…” Maven’s brows furrowed in bewildered confusion as they looked down at themselves. “I… I am Steven and Mabel! Why isn’t that good enough for you guys, or for the Gems, or for anyone else?!”

“Because you’re not just Steven and Mabel anymore,” Dipper sighed tiredly, glancing away from the fusion pleadingly. “You’re Maven. Garnet was right; you two really are losing yourselves.”

“You’re both already so far gone that you just don’t even see it!” Connie shook her head sadly. “And that’s why you have to unfuse. Before you guys disappear… forever…”

Tears were finally starting to form in all four of Maven’s eyes, but they just barely managed to hold them back. A part of them desperately wanted to understand, aside from what just their words and expressions conveyed, exactly how Dipper and Connie must be feeling, and yet, for some reason, they couldn’t. The only emotions they could feel were their own, and those emotions were not only conflicted, painful, and pressing. They were huge. “W-well… well…” the fusion stammered, trying their best to reconcile all of the negative feelings racing through them, even if they were powerless to keep them from running wild. And so instead, those countless feelings manifested themselves in the only way they could at the moment: through anger. “Well… maybe I don’t want to unfuse!”

Maven’s furious shout hung heavily in the air for a moment seeing as how neither Dipper nor Connie really knew how to react to it aside from staring at the frustrated fusion with wide, shocked eyes. Still, when the stilted silence was broken, Connie was the one to do it, and with a sudden sense of rage that was almost equal to Maven’s own. “It doesn’t matter if you ‘don’t want to’,” she scowled, her usual calm demeanor anything but. “You have to!”

“No, I don’t!” the fusion argued back fiercely. “What if I wanna stay like this, huh? What’s the problem with just letting me have fun and be me?!”

“The problem is that if you guys stay like this,” Dipper began, his tone calmer than Connie’s but notably dejected and glum. “Then Steven and Mabel will basically just… fade away. And I honestly don’t think I have to tell you why that’s a problem, seeing as how, like you said, they are you.”

“O-oh, yeah? W-well...” Maven trailed off, still filled with far too much anger, desperation, and grief to even think rationally as they fired off an intense response without even thinking about it. “Well, I don’t really care if they fade away or not!”

Of course, the very moment these words left the fusion’s mouth, they instantly regretted them, especially as they watched Dipper and Connie both freeze with surprise and mutual disappointment and despair. Still, it was too late to take them back now, as much as Maven wanted to, especially as a heavy wave of familiar fear and anxiety washed over them. And this time, there would be no pushing it away. “I… I didn’t-” the fusion struggled, a choked sob finally escaping them. They knew they had crossed a line, a line that they had never meant to step over, but had recklessly crossed nonetheless. And because of that, they had absolutely no idea how to try and make it right.

So instead, they didn’t.

Without so much as a single word, Maven turned on their heel and rushed out of the kitchen, ultimately running out of the shack without so much as even entertaining the thought of turning back. They didn’t even slow their pace as Dipper and Connie hurried after them, pleading with them to stop so that they could talk all of this through instead of arguing about it. But Maven knew that it was far too late to simply talk about it now. Really, if there was any suitable way to solve this problem, then it was far beyond their knowledge or reach.

Though it had recently started raining outside, even that didn’t stop Maven as they burst out of the shack, still refusing to let their pressing tears fall as their sandals splashed quickly in the mud with each running step. Because of the rain, Dipper and Connie were quick to stop following the fusion, especially as they ran into the nearby woods, but still they barely noticed. At this point, the only thing guiding them was their own deep, intense desperation to escape. They didn’t know what they were really doing or where they were really going. All they knew was that they had to get away. From their guilt, from their overwhelming emotions in general, from perhaps even themselves.

In the midst of trying to block everything out, Maven had no idea how long they had been fleeing for, or even where in the woods they were. They were effectively drenched, thanks to the rain, their poofy, curled hair sopping with water and their sweater and socks both heavy and soggy. And yet as the adrenaline of their flight finally started to fade, they gradually slowed their pace to a walk, before ultimately stopping to hunch over and catch their lost breath. For once, their thoughts were oddly as silent as they were, though they figured that was because there were just too many of them bouncing around their head for any single one to take dominance. In fact, by this point, the only thing they felt was cold, both inside and out, though this cold was occasionally punctuated by regret, dread, or sorrow, or sometimes even all three. What had once been fun and exciting had all at once become suffocating and painful. Yet they knew they couldn’t stop yet. Because somewhere, hidden deep down inside of them, beyond the dread and fear, that fun and excitement was still there, waiting to fill them with their warmth and pleasure once again, just like the return of the sun after the rain.

A sudden, familiar laugh sounding out from nearby was what finally broke the distraught fusion out of their breathlessness. A sharp gasp escaped them as they bolted upright, their four eyes widening as they listened for the laugh again, only to hear a different, but still very familiar one. The first laugh echoed through the area only seconds later, and before Maven was even aware of what was happening, the back and forth laughter had pointed them towards a sight that deeply alarmed them. The fusion only saw them for a second, but they saw them nonetheless: Steven and Mabel both running laughingly through the woods just ahead of them. The two halves to their whole, already slipping away from them altogether.

“W-wait!” Maven choked, a deep sense of fear racing through them like lightning. The fusion stumbled forward, running after the pair without even thinking about the logistics of how they were seemingly separate and apart from them. “Wait, come back!” They shouted desperately, tears finally slipping down their cheeks as they tried to catch up with the two fading halves of themselves, knowing that if they didn’t, they could very well lose themselves forever. “Wait! Please, we-”

Maven was cut off as their sandal suddenly caught onto a rock in their path, one that instantly tripped them up and sent them crashing to the ground. The fusion fell face-first into the mud near a small stream, their face and clothes tarnished by it as they shakily picked themselves up, Steven and Mabel’s respective laughter fading away into silence as they did so. “W-wait...” they pleaded softly, their hand shaking as they reached out into the darkened, empty woods ahead of them. “Please…”

The fusion let out a small, morose sob as they pulled themselves into a sitting position, tentatively glancing over to their reflection in the nearby stream. Despite the mud and tears, they still looked every bit like the perfect cross between Steven and Mabel that they were on the outside. But on the inside… they weren’t so sure if that was even true anymore. “I-it’s just us…” they muttered despondently before bitterly glancing away from their reflection. “It’s just me.”

Unsure of what else to do, Maven pushed themselves away from the stream and sat against a large, nearby tree, pulling their legs close to their chest in a tight embrace. Their sweater was too short for them to go to ‘sweatertown’ but they still did the next best thing as a pink, sparkling bubble formed around them, blocking them from the rain and really everything else but their own misery. With a heavy heart, Maven at last realized that everyone had been right about them; they had let this get far too out of hand and had gone way off the deep end with their fusion, to the point that they weren’t even sure if it was possible for them to end it now, even if they wanted to.

And even still, they weren’t so sure that they even did want to end.

“Hey,” the fusion spoke up to themselves, their voice anxious and small. “A-are you still there? …Yeah, I’m still here. Good… So… so should we…? I-I guess so… But… I… I really don’t want to be alone right now… Neither do I…” Maven sighed, hugging their legs closer to themselves as they buried their face into their knees. “What are we gonna do?”

“I think you both know the answer to that.”

Maven gasped, startled as they glanced up to see Garnet standing right outside of their bubble, soaked from the rain but hardly phased by it as she looked down at the fusion with an unreadable expression. “G-Garnet!” they exclaimed, instantly dropping the bubble to let the Gem leader get closer. “H-how did you… why are you… what’s-”

“Shh,” Garnet quieted them, kneeling down to their level. “Relax. Steady yourselves, and breathe.”

Maven did so, taking in a deep breath that they ultimately let out in the form of a ragged sob. Unable to contain their overwhelming emotions any longer, the fusion let them all out, throwing themselves forward into the Gem leader’s already awaiting arms as they wept loudly. For quite a while, Garnet said nothing, simply providing them with a much-needed shoulder to cry on as she placed a soothing, protective hand upon their back. In fact, the Gem leader only spoke after Maven’s broken sobs started quieting down, and when she did begin, her tone was as gentle and comforting as it was steady and intent.

“Maven,” Garnet said, catching the fusion’s attention as they slowly looked up at her, tears still streaming from all four of their eyes.

“Hm?” they asked, their tone distant and almost dazed.

“I heard about what happened,” the Gem leader adjusted her shades.

“O-oh…” Maven glanced away, ashamed. “You did?”

Garnet nodded calmly. “You really shouldn’t feel that bad for it though. With a fusion as strong and as healthy as yours… it makes sense that you’d want to maintain it. But there does come a point where you have to ask yourselves why.”

“W-why?” the fusion frowned, wiping a few of their tears away. “W-well… because it just… it feels so good. It’s like… I don’t know, like we’re both at a party where the only guests are us, but that’s ok because we’re both having such a fun time! It… its wonderful… Or at least it was…”

“And it’s not wrong for you to feel that way about it, believe me,” Garnet assured. “But it’s also wise to consider how others outside of yourselves are feeling as well.”

“Others…” Maven muttered, glancing down guiltily. “Dipper and Connie looked like they really upset when I told them I wanted to say fused… But I don’t get why! I like being me, being this! So… why don’t they like it?”

“It’s not that they don’t like you, Maven,” Garnet clarified, as calm as ever. “It’s that they can still see something that you’ve started to forget.”

“A-and what’s that?”

“That for as much as you are a fusion, you’re still two different, separate people with different separate lives,” the Gem leader said. “If you were to remain fused, then those lives would remain forever intersected, always following the same parallel path through every moment and experience. For… some Gems, this is actual a more ideal existence than staying apart. But most of those Gems aren’t like humans are. They don’t have individual family or friends or connections that would motivate them to live separately. But you two do. And the effect that you choosing to stay fused on all of those connections you both have… well, it would spread far wider than even what you could imagine.”

“I… I hadn’t really thought about it like that before…” Maven mused gently as they thought of all of the people in both of their lives that their selfish choice would impact. Stan, Soos, Candy, Grenda, Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and especially Dipper and Connie. What would all of them think of never seeing either of them as individuals again and instead only having them as the sum of their parts? “I never wanted to hurt anybody…” the fusion admitted truthfully. “It’s just… I love this feeling I have from being fused, from being together so much! I… I don’t want it to end…”

“And it doesn’t have to,” Garnet assured, though Maven interjected before she could continue.

“But it will!” the fusion protested adamantly. “Everyone’s all worried about what will happen if Steven and Mabel fade away, but what about me?! If they unfuse, then I… I’ll… I’ll disappear… forever…”

“No, you won’t,” the Gem leader said, placing a hand upon the distraught fusion’s shoulder. “Maven, you are the embodiment of Steven and Mabel’s friendship. You are a symbol of the close bond and trust between them. And as long as that bond exists, then you’ll always exist in some form, whether they’re fused or not.”

“Are you sure?” Maven asked, their tone both doubtful and hopeful.

“Positive,” Garnet nodded, finally smiling gently as her hand slipped off of the fusion’s shoulder. “But like I said before: this is your choice. Not mine, or anyone else’s. And in the end, I trust that you’ll make the right one. For everyone.”

Maven said nothing for quite a while as they simply sat, pondering over what the Gem leader had just told them. They couldn’t deny that her words held a good amount of truth to them, but even still, they had their reservations. What if, for instance, Garnet was somehow wrong? What if Maven ended the moment that Steven and Mabel returned? What if they weren’t able to fuse again? What if this was destined to be the only time and way they could ever truly feel their bond and share their elation as intimately as they were now?

And yet… what if they remained together forever? What if they returned to everyone fused and had to take in the disappointed stares and hear the discouraged whispers of everyone they held dear? What if, one day, they really did lose touch with both of their halves, forgetting who they really were and what it was like to live apart? What if their lives were eternally set on that parallel path, neither of them ever deviating and always staying on the same course, the same life, the same everything?

Of course, “what ifs” weren’t going to give Maven the answer they were really searching for. In fact, that answer existed inside of them; it always had. They had just been too blinded by themselves to see it until now. And as they set their resolve towards that final answer and the difficult choice that came with it, both halves of their whole hoped that it was, indeed, the right one.

As soon as the rain finally ended, Dipper and Connie emerged from the shack, both of them resolved to set out and find Maven with the intent of apologizing. For both of them, tracking the lost fusion down as far more important than anything else at the moment, including convincing them to unfuse. As far as they were concerned, that didn’t even matter as long as Maven was alright. And if the state that they fled in was any indication, then chances were that they likely were not.

“So, what are we even supposed to say to them once we find them?” Dipper asked Connie as they headed for the woods. “‘Hey, guys, sorry for complaining about you two being fused earlier. Now do you mind finally unfusing already?’ I’m sure they’d just love to hear that.”

“We’ll think of something,” Connie said, her remorse hidden under a thick layer of hardened determination. “Right now, we just need to focus on finding them. If they’re anything like Stevonnie was, then them being that upset and alone could end up being… pretty bad for them. Which is why we have to hurry and make sure they’re ok!”

“That won’t be necessary,” Garnet said as she emerged from the forest right before the pair could go into them.

“Garnet?” Dipper asked, confused as him and Connie stopped in their tracks. “What are you doing here?”

“Just bringing these two home,” the Gem leader smirked, glancing briefly behind her. At this prompting, Steven and Mabel hesitantly stepped out from behind Garnet, both of them still muddy and disheveled, but surprisingly enough, finally unfused.

“Uh, hey, guys,” Steven greeted with a halfhearted smile, one that Mabel didn’t share. “Long time no see, huh?”

“Steven!” Connie grinned with delight as she rushed forward, pulling the young Gem into a tight embrace.

“Mabel!” Dipper exclaimed, just as relieved as he hurried to hug his sister in the same way.

The pair wasn’t exactly surprised by the welcoming embraces, but they were hard pressed to return them, especially after everything that had happened. And really, now that it was all said and done, there was no way either of them could get off the hook without addressing it in retrospect. “Ugh, guys, look,” Mabel spoke up with a dissatisfied frown as she pulled away from Dipper a bit. “We’re really sorry for… well, you know… going so nuts with this whole fusion thing.”

“Yeah…” Steven agreed, glancing away as he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s just… we were having such a good time together and I guess we got so distracted by that that we didn’t even realize that we were hurting you.”

“Hurting us?” Connie asked, shaking her head. “Steven, you two weren’t hurting us. We were just worried about you! We didn’t want to lose either of you, and we’re so glad that we didn’t, right, Dipper?”

“That’s right, and if anyone should be sorry, it’s us,” Dipper nodded firmly. “The last thing we wanted was to make either of you guys so upset. We should have been more careful in-”

“You should have been more careful?” Mabel asked, finally letting out a small laugh at the irony of it all. “Bro-bro, we should have been more careful! I mean, we totally leaped off the deep end into fusion insanity!”

“Yeah, we were pretty out there…” Steven smiled somewhat sadly. “But to make up for it, maybe we could finally get to throwing that party we were supposed to have yesterday?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Garnet said with a broad smile as Dipper and Connie both nodded their complete approval. The Gem leader began leading the way up to the temple, the kids all eagerly following after her, though it wasn’t long before Mabel started hanging back a bit.  

“Hey, Steven?” she called, prompting the young Gem to slow his pace too.

“Yeah, Mabel?” Steven turned to face her with a small, albeit strained smile.

“I… I just… Well, I…” Mabel stammered, not entirely sure of what to say as she awkwardly rubbed her arm. “I… I’m sorry for… for, uh…”

“For holding on too tightly?” Steven asked, his smile turning genuine and understanding. “I’m sorry too. But its ok! I guess we’ll just have to be a little more careful next time we form Maven.”

“Wait, what?” Mabel asked, quite surprised. “You… you’d wanna be Maven again after all that crazy drama?”

“Well, of course I would!” the young Gem beamed brightly. “Being Maven with you was so much fun! It would be so awesome to do it again sometime!”

For a moment, all Mabel could really do was stare at Steven incredulously upon hearing this, her cheeks filling in with a slight blush that thankfully the young Gem didn’t notice as she glanced away from him bashfully. “Y-yeah…” she smiled softly, alarmed by how her quickly her own heart was suddenly beating. “Awesome…”

“Now, come on!” Steven encouraged as he started continuing up to the temple. “We gotta get this party started for real this time!”

Mabel quickly perked up at this, letting out a small laugh as her and Steven hurried to catch up with the others. It was a relief for both of them that, despite how they had almost ended losing themselves to their fusion, they both still remained safe, sound, and completely in tact. And at the same time, they both knew that Maven had as well. Garnet had been right in saying that Maven would always persist so long as their friendship did. Even if they weren’t physically present, Maven could still be seen in the smiles they shared, the jokes they enjoyed, and the fun they had together. Their fusion would always be a part of them, always serving as a reminder of their close-knit bond and the clear trust that exist between them.

And, of course, Maven would always be there, somewhere inside of them both, eagerly awaiting their inevitable, excitable return just as much as Steven and Mabel were.

 Next: 

[juniper-rose-blower]

FEEL. -How does your character react to a persons touch? A random stranger’s? A loved one’s? A friend’s?

Alright, so we’re going to delve right into this one (and the other questions, which I hope someone sends me!). I’ll give OOC answers, mostly for the sake of giving full answers.

Juniper, believe it or not, is incredibly introverted. She has a small streak of talkativeness when it comes to her botany, but other than that, talking is a bit uncomfortable. For those who are extroverted (which I the mun am), introverts function a bit differently than we do. Where we might love to spend time out in the crowds having a great time, that can actually be far more taxing and exhausting for an introvert. Instead, they find solitude and peace to be far more rejuvenating (something we might find boring in larger doses).

June is very much the same. Spending time talking to, let alone touching, other people, is not something to which she’s accustomed. There are exceptions to this rule, of course, but the prevailing reaction to touch, especially from random strangers, is discomfort.

Now, if we delve into the oddball relationships she keeps with her colleagues in Blackbay, it’s a bit different, as she views each person with a specific set of rose-colored glasses.

For @heyzailene‘s warlock, Lady DuCass - aka ‘Magpie’: June equates a lot of her own mother to Magpie. The woman is older, and quite ‘proper’ in the same senses her mother was, and fusses over little things in ways that dredge up unwanted memories of the woman. But Magpie has also been far kinder than her mother ever was. In truth, Magpie’s existence has begun to soften June’s remembrance of her mother, albeit very slowly. So when there’s a touch from the elderly woman to Juniper, she’s normally adjusting something or rearranging something in a light and gentle manner. June mostly tunes it out, letting the woman do what she feels necessary without feeling overly bothered by it.

For @monettemason - aka ‘Swan’: Mo is the guild Den Mother. I’m certain I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating because it is very much the truth. She watches out for and cares for the group as her own children. Funnily enough, June does not think of Mo as a mother per se, as memories of her mother are not overly pleasant. Instead, she views Mo the same way she viewed the Apothecary in Gilneas who began teaching June about herbalism and botany and alchemy prior to the Fall of the Wall. The man was kind, and gave June an ear when she had a burning question, much as Mo has done time and time again for the Botanist in her emotional turmoils. When Mo has touched June, it’s been in reassurance, and June has found a quiet comfort in the motions, typically grateful for the times when they occur.

For @quai-mason - aka ‘Wren’: Juniper and Quai bonded early into her introduction to the covert group, sharing both moments of peace and moments of turmoil together. Something that really stuck with June early on was having to set Quai’s broken leg in the little cottage in the hills of Northern Elwynn. But she didn’t have to think twice about how she needed to do it, for Quai’s sake. She’d already been made aware of the situation, and she pressed forward with the best way to aid the woman in easing her pain and speeding along her healing. Since that time, June has interacted more than once with the Shadow within the other woman, finding a strange similarity and familiarity in the vibes it gives off. It reminds her of her own feelings, and does not cause her discomfort as it may others. Of all the members of Blackbay, June has probably had the most physical contact with Quai (mostly because she keeps getting hurt *ahem*). Not only does this contact not bother her, June would actively seek more time with her if she did not think it would make the other woman feel awkward. She views Quai as an older sister, and highly values her opinion.

For @brian-wellson - aka ‘Kestrel’: This relationship is probably the most complicated of June’s. Kestrel represents, in the young woman’s mind, a chance at having something she never had - a father. Hers was never in the picture - to whit, she doesn’t even know who he was, or that he was a nobleman, or what his accomplishments were... *cough* spoilers *cough*... Kestrel has been hard and sharp in a number of moments, confusing and misunderstood in others, and a few times has been utterly surprising. He’s an enigma that she cannot uncloud, a puzzle she cannot seem to solve. He offers her help in one moment, but when she reciprocates, he seems to turn her away. Some of these moments have been caused by her naive perception and not by Kestrel. I’ll admit, her interactions with Kestrel are some of the most fun, not only because riling up my muse is entertaining (yes, I can be an evil mun), but because the growth June undergoes through each one is so exciting. The few times Kestrel has made physical contact with June, it’s been a hand on her shoulder, strong and reassuring. It makes her wonder sometimes whether he’s similar to her in level of comfort around others, but the interaction does not bother her.

For @malorincan - aka ‘Albatross’: June has a funny awkward friendship with Mal. The first time they met, she had to tote him back to their Val’sharah cottage on her back (in her travel form, as she is a druid). The two have bonded a great deal, which of course includes having little disagreements and spats over little things that didn’t last very long. There have been times, mostly out of curiosity, that June has been a bit unfair to Mal, grabbing his tail and holding onto it for short periods. It’s easier than trying to hold his large hand, and she finds it a little funny that it makes him blush. But she likes that he’s grown accustomed enough to it that his tail curls around her hand now. They’re good friends, with a bit of a crush on Mal’s end right now, and he actually made her genuinely smile the other evening when he was concussed out of his mind. She cares for his well-being, and does not at all mind their physical interactions.

For @justinegrotius - aka ‘Osprey’: Ho boy. This is probably the most difficult one to put into words. June has had an overwhelming sense of confused emotions regarding Justine. The woman has played an integral part in how June has adapted since joining Blackbay. She’s been instructive and sharp, as a teacher would. She’s been reprimanding at time, as a mother might. She’s been supportive and reassuring, like a sister or a friend. But something Osprey likely did not count on was also something that June never counted on. Justine reminds June of Liam. The one person who ever gave the young botanist butterflies in her stomach. As a young woman who spent her time from the age of 15 to the age of 19 *alone* and generally avoiding people in large quantities, having this recurrence of emotion and feeling crop up this way has been massively befuddling. Right now, June doesn’t know what to do about it, or what to say, or whether to do anything about it at all. But lately, she’s felt overwhelming embarrassment over the things that flit through her mind. There was a singular specific moment that really stands out to her in which the two shared physical contact. June was in a threadbare cot in a rundown shack in Westfall, healing from a nasty wound. Justine sat by her bed, and absently ran her fingers through June’s hair in a soft caress. The tiny little touch still echoes in June’s dreams, weeks later. It resonates with her. It makes her heart flutter. And it terrifies her. It fills her with dread at the impending rejection she’d face if she ever voiced her feelings. And it’s wonderful! Each interaction with the woman is something June both looks forward to and wishes to avoid at the same time, and each one helps her grow into the woman she’s becoming.

To @jazimina, thank you for the ask. ^_^ I’m sorry it was so long. But it felt great to delve into June’s character. Y’all send me more of those questions! And to my Blackbay peeps, too! They’re all great, and I love them.