#i'm around but not on the dash ! got a job commissioned out of the blue

[stfredsa]

do u care her

[runningdownthatroad]

I just have to get this off my chest after seeing some very disturbing posts about 9/11 floating around on my dash as well as some truly crude commentary. A lot probably won't agree with my sentiments but I feel like this needs to be said.

I've seen a lot of things on Tumblr in the past that maybe I consider to be in poor taste or don't agree with but I usually just scroll past, sometimes block for curating sake, but today is the first time I truly was shell-shocked. To see the memes and blasé jokes people are making about this day are just absolutely horrific and appalling.

I get that a lot of people on this site now may not remember what happened that day and only learned second hand through school or media or other people telling them. I get that a lot occurred after this that wasn't right which we definitely should be learning from. I also get that there is a lot of anti-American and anti-white sentiments going around currently, especially on this site.

But here's the thing:

Not only Americans died that day. Not only white people died that day. That's the thing about terrorists and what these hijackers did: they don't care about your skin color, your culture, your religious preference, your sexual orientation, your gender orientation, your age, your economic status, your personality, whether you support them or not, your political persuasion, your job, or any of it. Everyone is fair game to them. For crying out loud, look at what the Afghani people are currently going through and how the Taliban are treating their own country's people, women especially. If you think this is bad (which it truly is), have you seen how things went under their rule before 9/11 even happened? Do you know their terrifyingly violent and brutal history? Women had acid thrown in their faces if they didn't wear a full hijab. People were mutilated or executed if they didn't fall in line with the law of the Taliban. And this doesn't even begin to go into Al-Qaeda or Isis. But I'm not here to talk about that or delve into that topic too much.

My point in mentioning all of this is that white Americans weren't the only ones that were killed that day. People of all faiths, of all colors, of different countries, died that day, too. And the unity that is consistently discussed every 9/11 anniversary is in regards to us being aware of that fact, us mourning all of their losses together, and the collective desire to come together and help once the planes hit and after the towers collapsed.

So when people say "why am I supposed to cry over white Americans getting killed that day" think about that. Not only white Americans died that day. And regardless of their color, their nationality, their culture, their religion, etc. anyone dying is always sad. Whether it be a jetliner being used as a weapon that crashed into their floor or someone dying of cancer or someone being killed in a mudslide or someone dying in a car accident -- it is always sad. And empathy should always be shown in response, even if it doesn't impact you personally. Let's not forget these people have loved ones that got left behind, that are still here.

So when people say "if something knocks into a cow and knocks it over, I'm not expected to care, but if something knocks into a building and knocks it over, suddenly I'm supposed to care?" think about that. People aren't grieving two large pieces of steel architecture. People aren't saying "always remember those two towers". The WTC Towers were a symbol (yes, for American wealth, I get it) but became so much more of a multi-faceted powerful symbol after 9/11. The towers represent a way of life before 9/11 happened, but more importantly they represent the people lost that day, who were in the towers when they collapsed. For all of the first responders who were stuck on those floors still trying to help evacuate people to safety when the buildings finally gave. The two footprints and two blue lights aren't a symbol of American wealth or a naivete and simpler way of life pre-9/11 - they are a symbol of memorialization for that day. The Freedom Tower was erected to show that despite the loss of that day, we stood united (even if there seems to be more and more division these days). It's a message to the world that yes, destruction and death happened that day in NYC, but so did rebuilding and life carrying on. It's a symbol of strength, resilience, and unity - something that was everywhere you looked days after this event occurred. The two towers (aka NYC) may have gotten knocked down but the city got back up. They weren't kept down - that's the point of the Freedom Tower.

When people say "I don't understand, what is it that I shouldn't be forgetting since I can't remember it anyway" here is what we all should be remembering despite our age or our connection (or lack thereof) with this event:

2,997 innocent civilians died that day. Among them were 343 firefighters, 37 police officers, 23 Port Authority police officers, 8 EMS workers, and 4 other first responders. Also among them were 246 people on the four planes that crashed.

The passengers of United Flight 93 made a choice to fight back against the hijackers and saved lives that day by sacrificing their own.

Many children lost parents. Many parents lost children. Many brothers lost sisters, and many sisters lost brothers. Many spouses lost their significant others. Many lost friends, family, and loved ones.

For those who want a better connection to this day who didn't experience it and/or don't remember it, and for those others who are seriously lacking in empathy: yes, it was a highly publicized event due to the hundreds of cameras (including media outlets) watching that day, but if the horrific images aren't enough to garner some of your empathy, then there are plenty of other resources at your disposal. Documentaries like 9/11 by James Hanlon and the Naudet brothers, 102 Minutes That Changed America (which shows you not only all of the first-hand eyewitness accounts that day but also lets you hear 911 calls, radio transmissions between firefighters, and people's reactions to the event and each other who were there), 9/11 Firefighters (on Discovery Plus) and even more recently, 9/11: The Turning Point (on Netflix) which provides a 360 degree view of the events that led up to 9/11, 9/11 itself, and what came after, displaying all different viewpoints. You can read the 9/11 Commission Report or there are several books and memoirs out there like Wake-Up Call by Kristen Breitweiser, or even historical accounts in books, newspaper articles, and online. But most importantly, listen to people's stories. The ones who were there, the ones who saw it happen, the ones who ran in to help, the ones who lost loved ones. That is the most important part and the most powerful. On Hulu, ABC News ran segments of 9/11 Twenty Years Later, "Women Of Resilience" being especially powerful. It's hard not to feel a human connection to these stories or any kind of empathy.

For those who are making these jokes and memes, if you like shows like 9-1-1 and Chicago Fire, etc, imagine those first responder characters rushing into those buildings to save lives and losing theirs in the process. If you don't remember 9/11 or feel any connection or empathy, imagine hundreds of Bucks or Eddies or Bobbys or Hens or Chimneys dying that day as they worked to save so many. Sorry to be so blunt because I love those characters too, but do you get a little bit of the connection now? Do you feel any empathy? I'm not trying to equate real life heroes and sheroes with fictional characters of course, but if it helps you to understand a little better in some way, well...I'm throwing it out there.

I myself lived in the Tri-State area at the time of the attacks. I remember seeing the second plane seconds before it crashed into the second building. I remember the devastation I felt watching the first tower collapse knowing that a loved one was most likely inside and how hard I cried thinking he was dead. (thankfully, he had been late to work that day and he got out of the area before the towers came down) I remember the relief and gratefulness we all felt hearing from him to assure us that he was alive when he finally was able to get to a phone, stating he was covered in dust and ash from the buildings. I remember the panic and fear we all felt, thinking the world was ending and we were all going to die, that this was it, this was World War III, after it was confirmed that the Pentagon had also been hit and there was also a downed plane in Pennsylvania. I remember the grief another loved one suffered because she lost her entire floor (she had been out sick that day) and every single one of her co-workers. I remember the race to pick up children from school and get them home as soon as possible. I remember the rage that coursed through us seeing the footage of some people in certain countries celebrating the attacks in the streets, enjoying the deaths of so many Americans, a couple of these countries who lost citizens themselves in these attacks. I remember the camping out in front of the televisions night after night for a week straight afterwards, watching the news 24/7, worrying that there might be more attacks. I remember the feeling of sheer terror anytime a plane was heard overhead or seen appearing low enough in the sky that you could practically make out which airline it was for months afterwards. I remember seeing the lights the first time they were lit from our home. I remember feeling pure fear not only for what happened that day but also what came afterwards (not yet understanding that these weren't practitioners of Islam that did this but radical extremists who had literally hijacked the religion). I remember seeing the devastation at Ground Zero through a tear in the fabric over a fence as we walked through the city months afterwards. I remember not wanting to fly for years. I remember the anger I felt that our government had failed us due to political bs between agencies and countless others (which we found out especially when the 9/11 Commission Report came out) and that because of this horrific and absurd failure, thousands of innocent people had died. I remember seeing the crushed ladder truck, and the toy of the little girl who was on one of the planes at the 9/11 Memorial Museum and all of the pictures in that room that just floored me. (I also remember being pissed off that many were treating it as a selfie op where they were allowed to take pictures, completely missing the point of the museum's existence) But most of all, I remember feeling that life would never be the same for any of us ever again, and that the feeling of safety we had naively enjoyed on September 10, 2001 would never return.

But I also remember the compassion and unity we saw rising in the country after those attacks. I remember the gratitude for all of our first responders, those we lost that day and those who were still with us, actively working to recover those lost and to clear Ground Zero. I remember the feeling of collectiveness, that we all shared grief and showed support to one another in those days afterwards. I remember the fallen heroes and sheroes who ran into those buildings, who were off duty but raced from wherever they were that day to come and help. I remember The Man In the Red Bandana aka Welles Crowther (and many like him who worked to save others) who has become another important symbol of that day. I remember hearing all of the stories of people helping one another before and after the towers collapsed. I remember the good that this day represents. That while we may have seen some of the worst of humanity that day in the form of violence, death, weaponized airplanes, and devastation, we also saw the very best of humanity in the form of our first responders and people helping one another.

Look, did Islamophobia happen? Yes. Was it right? No, absolutely not. As I stated above, I myself feared the idea of the religion until I was educated by a friend of mine about the difference between the religion and extremism. This form of hijacking ideology can be seen in examples like the Westboro Baptist Church or even Hitler. Terrorists do not represent the true spirit of Islam no matter what the former tries to force people to believe. Just as the WBC is not the true spirit of Christianity, and so on and so forth. But even during the time I had feared the religion before gaining understanding and clarity, I never confronted or mistreated any practicing Muslim or Arab-American. Ever. I never posted hate or spewed vitriol against them. Just like with the current pandemic, I still cannot believe there are people out there attack Asian-Americans as if this whole thing is their fault. That's still mind boggling to me and it is absolutely 100% WRONG. It should not be happening. Same with Islamophobia. And it breaks my heart to read that many Arab-Americans and practicing Muslims still worry when this anniversary comes around that they may be attacked. It might not mean much, but I just want to say I am truly sorry for that and you have my full support. Always.

Did we go to war and was it just? Yes we did go to war. Was it just? Afghanistan? I need more information in order to have a fully-formed opinion but there are plenty who say yes and plenty who say no. Plenty who say we made things better over there (before we exited and the Taliban advanced) and plenty who say we didn't and only made it worse. I truly cannot say which assertion is correct and I think it would be narrow-minded and completely moronic (and possibly arrogant and presumptuous?) of me to speak on a subject I know so little about, one way or the other. Iraq? No, I don't think it was just and I honestly wish we could go back and do things differently.

But coming back to 9/11 and what this day means for so many, the people who died, the people who rushed headfirst into danger, the people who lost their loved ones. We saw incredible bravery, selflessness, and compassion for your fellow human that day despite what happened. We saw the strength within ourselves despite the fear and anger. We saw resilience. That is what the anniversary is meant to be a reminder of. The sacrifices, the loss, the courage, and the strength. Black, White, Gay, Straight, Christian, Muslim, Man, Woman, Young, Old -- it didn't matter. We all came together.

So regardless of whether it's the cool thing to do right now on this site (or elsewhere) to hate on America or 9/11 or white Americans or the anniversary itself on the very anniversary of these attacks, I ask that you please consider when posting these hurtful (and frankly harmful) words of hatred and vitriol such as referenced above that there are people out there who lost their loved ones on 9/11, that yes some of them may be on this very site and going through the 9/11 tag, and that some of them may have even lost a loved one in either war and are again on this site reading your words. Regardless of what you think or feel, please consider them and tag appropriately if you're going to post. Please consider that some of these people are currently losing their loved ones due to 9/11-related illnesses because of the cleanup at Ground Zero. Please consider that there are children who lost a parent or loved one, or who were orphaned that day (yes, they exist, we had some in our school district) who are also on this site reading your words. Basically, please just consider and be considerate. Please stop spreading hatred on a day that happened due to hatred; please stop perpetuating that cycle.

Like Martin Luther King Jr. said, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that."

TLDR: Love and light, my friends. Love and light. ✌️❤️

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

Characters © Frederator/Cartoon Network and so forth. Story ©2020 to me! All rights reserved.

This little fic was commissioned by MorbidHero. Enjoy! I'm not a superfan but I hope I still did the fandom justice, more or less. Even though there are no bacon pancakes or appearances from Billy.

Orono Or DIE.

The sign was unique enough to attract attention. That was probably the idea. Still, the girl with the long, black hair and the red-and-blue striped sweater seemed a little surprised when a car pulled over on the long, lonely stretch of Highway 95. Her eyes narrowed to slits as headlights attempted to blast the pupils wide, and she shadowed them with a pale hand.

"Hello!" cried a voice that sounded like a music box. "Are you in need of aid?"

"Uhhhh…" The squinting eyes shifted. "There a person in there?"

"Of course! I am a person! Please, it's too cold to be out here alone!"

The stranger approached the passenger window, bending down to look inside. By the light of the dash screen, she saw a rosy complexion and bright pink hair to match. The girl's round face held the sweetest, most angelic smile she had ever seen.

"I… whoa."

"Yes?"

"N-nothing. You're really gonna give me a lift? I could be an axe murderer."

The driver's eyebrows raised. "Are you an axe murderer?"

"Sorta." She opened her black guitar case, covered in stickers from all manner of bands and destinations, to display a red bass that actually was shaped like an axe, a snarky half-smile displaying some prominent canines. "I slay on this thing alllll the time."

"Oooh! A wandering minstrel! Prithee, do not tarry thither, but let us away in mine chariot!"

"I… huh?"

Cheeks turning a bit rosier, she whispered, "Just get in the car."

With her bass, cardboard sign, and knapsack stashed in the cramped back seat, the two pulled away from the shoulder and back onto the near-deserted highway. There reigned silence for a moment or two until the driver decided to attempt pleasant conversation.

"What's your name, minstrel?"

"Not Minstrel. Marcy. Or Marce, Marceline, Nightmarce… Elvira, if you're everybody in my high school."

"That sounds very unkind, and I am not from your high school so I will not do that." She smiled over at her. "I'm Bonnibel, or Bonnie."

"Cool. This, uh… this car seems weird."

"Oh!" she piped up animatedly. "It is a hybrid, but I have converted the combustion engine to run on used peanut oil."

"Is that why I have a craving for a PB&J out of nowhere?!"

Bonnie laughed, and Marcy wore a smile of her own. That was bizarre; why would she smile at some stranger who just picked her up to give her a lift? "Perhaps! It is also why I will eventually have to visit a Five Guys restaurant to refuel."

Chuckling quietly, Marcy fought down a groan as she struggled out of her black leather boots and propped her feet up on the dash. "Sorry, but I've been walking for hours. Nobody else would pick me up, except for this creepy trucker who would probably have murdered me. With my own axe."

"It is alright! I can't blame you, that sounds like a terrible day. How did you end up out here all by yourself? With no car?"

"Ash, ugh."

"Gesundheit?"

Rolling her eyes, Marcy explained, "No, Ash is my ex. Also the lead guitarist of our band, Vampire Queen. But like, he's been impossible since we broke up, and he threw his guitar at my head during our last show. I told him I wasn't riding in the van with him anymore and they took off without me. Jerkfaces."

Bonnie's expression was completely thunderstruck. She reached over to pat Marceline's thigh. "That is just unacceptable, you could have been hurt!"

"Uh… yeah?" She thought that was obvious. And the sudden physical contact made her squirm.

"No, I mean you should remove him from the band. He is clearly dangerous and you have every right to feel safe on the stage."

"Oh. Well… it's not that easy. He writes half our songs, and he's no great singer but he does know all the guitar parts already. But… I guess he's more replaceable than Fionna or Jake."

"You should send him to prison. Or castrate him," she added, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Which is what finally made Marceline realize neither of her hands were on the wheel. She sat up quick and shouted, "HEY, we're gonna crash! Are you insane?!"

"Hm?" Glancing ahead, she calmly stated, "No we aren't, we're driving perfectly straight. And there are no other cars."

"Well… yeah, but…" She watched their course correct very slightly, still glancing at Bonnie's hands. "Oh, is this one of those self-driving things?"

"Yes! Oh, I see; you thought I was neglecting the wheel." The pink-haired oddity giggled as if Marcy were the weird one.

"Do you just pick up random strangers and scare them to death? Messed up hobby, girl. I can respect it though."

At that, Bonnie's smile lessened as she stared ahead again. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget that not everyone has access to the technology I do. I didn't mean to cause you any undue strife."

"Not everybody swallows a dictionary for breakfast, either." When that wiped the smile away entirely, the rocker turned to look out the passenger window as she tightened her arms around her stomach. "Nah… I'm sorry, I'm a bitch."

The car was silent for a few seconds. "You aren't. I just don't spend a lot of time with other people. When I do, they tell me I am awkward."

"Yeah? Agoraphobic or something?" She paused. "Yeah, I know some big words, too."

"I never said you didn't. But no, that isn't the problem. I'm a workaholic. Even when I'm not in my lab, I'm still focused on inventing or revising previous inventions. I like speaking with people, but there never seems to be any time…"

"Dude, nerdslut. Got it."

"WHAT?!"

The outburst was harsher than Marce expected. "Sorry," she muttered, head ducking lower. "I didn't-"

"I'm not a slut! I'm…" Her cheeks began to glow. "I've never even been on a date."

"I was kidding, man. I didn't really mean…" Her fingers ran through her fringe. "Look, you told me you don't get out much. So I'll do my best not to tease you like I normally would, but no promises. I'm pretty edgy." She even threw up devil horns to add to the effect.

"You're teasing. Yes, I understand." The bubbly girl sighed and relaxed, smiling again. Apparently, it was that easy.

"What do you do for a living, anyway? All the inventing…"

"Oh! Have you heard of PeebleCo?"

A brief pause. "If I say 'no', does that mean I'm dumb?"

"It's alright. I am the president and CEO. Though the board members make most of the day-to-day decisions, they consult with me before making any large changes. And I am also the head of the R&D department."

"Whoa. And you're what, like, eighteen?"

"Nineteen."

"Excuse me," she snickered. "But yeah, that's pretty young to have your whole future figured out. I'm still kind of drifting through life in the shadows."

Bonnie shrugged as she pulled off the highway. "It is okay. I know I am strange, and that most people have to take some time to find their true destiny."

"Where… are we going?"

"To this hotel! I have been driving all day."

"Oh. Guess this is where I get off, then."

"It is if you want. Or you are welcome to share my hotel room and I will continue to ferry you to your destination in the morning."

Marceline raised an eyebrow as she watched Bonnie smoothly guide the car into a parking spot — having to use her hands this time, of course. "Are you totally insane, or just the nicest person on the planet?"

"Does it have to be one or the other?" she asked with a huge grin. And yet again, Marcy found she was grinning back.

                                                      ~ o ~

Once they had brought their bags inside, the hitchhiker plopped herself on the bed and kicked off her boots again. Then she started tuning her bass. Bonnie started unpacking her little pink rolling suitcase immediately, though she cast a casual glance over at her guest now and then.

"What? Am I bugging you?"

"Not at all. I have just never seen someone play a guitar in person before."

"Never?!" When the inventor shook her head, Marceline chuckled softly. "Damn, you really don't ever crawl out from under that rock to see what the sun looks like. Not that I do, either."

"It's because I'm working," she protested with a slight pout. "Not because I don't want to meet people. I love people!"

"Oh yeah, me too. They're delicious."

Bonnie cackled as she plugged her BMO's charger into the wall. At least she got that joke. "You're so funny and cool! I wish I was like you."

"No you don't, trust me. I'm kind of a cunt."

"Are you? Well, I think that's still preferable to being boring. I might have an important job but as a person, I am… vanilla pudding."

"Yeah? Well I mean, vanilla pudding can be pretty good. Add a little red food coloring to make people think you're eating ketchup? I like red things, they look more badass."

"Vanilla is not interesting," she sighed as she seated herself on the other twin bed, pulling off her Uggs. Marceline tried not to pay too much attention to how her white leggings hugged her shapely calves and thighs. "Being a vanilla pudding when there are so many chocolate puddings around me… that is why I focus on my work."

The hitchhiker thought that over as she played a couple of notes, a few chords she used in their sets. The hook from "Smoke On The Water", then the bassline from "The Chain".

"I think you're cool, Bonbon."

"You do?" she asked in pure shock. Marcy looked up — and immediately averted her eyes when she saw her company was wearing only her underwear.

"WHOA, hey, warn a girl or something!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she hissed, arms trying to hide parts of her body pointlessly. "The other girls in gym class never cared!"

Pale cheeks flooding with color, the rocker cleared her throat and studied the carpet, watching pale pink toes curl nervously into the fibers. "Gym, yeah. Um… I'm sorry, that was stupid. Me flipping out. If you're cool with stripping down in front of me, like… it's your hotel room…"

"No, you are right, it was my mistake. We have only just met today. And I am decent." When Marceline chanced another glance, she saw a long pink nightgown covering Bonnie from neck to ankle. She was also wearing an embarrassed little smile that was more adorable than it had any right to be.

"You're definitely decent."

"Jingo-jango!"

"Gesundheit?" she re-joked with a slight smirk.

"Free candy!" She practically pounced on the little mint laying on her pillow, unwrapping it and devouring it in mere seconds. "Mmmmhhh… oh, divine!"

The moans of pleasure definitely made Marcy have to clear her throat again. Desire was stirring within her in a way that blindsided her; Bonnie was a girl. One she had met literally that day! Was she losing it?! Sure, she had always known she liked girls as much as boys, but she had never really been serious about one.

"Marcy?"

"SHIT!" she gasped out when she saw those beautiful features only a couple of inches away from her own. It seemed Bonnie's concern had brought her over to the other bed. "I… what? I'm fine, you can go back to getting ready for bed or whatever."

"You are flushed. What if you have a fever, from being out in the cold too long?"

Then the bouncy inventor touched their foreheads together, to check her temperature. Marceline knew that was the reason… yet she still felt her heart speed up, her sweat glands stirring to life.

But she was no shrinking violet. Anti-social, sure, and inexperienced hitting on girls versus guys. But she figured she might as well give it a shot and see what happened.

"You give me fever," she began to sing in a smoky voice. Bonnie's concerned eyes shot wide. "Fever when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight."

A tiny whispered "What?" fell from small pink lips. And not even the oblivious shut-in could miss the rock star's meaning. "Me?"

After they held each other's gaze for a few more seconds, Marceline burst out with a chuckle and looked away, strumming her bass. "Couldn't resist. You're such a cute little marshmallow, it's too easy."

And that was that. Or so she thought. After she had played a few more notes and glanced up again, expecting that Bonnie would have rushed off to the bathroom by now, she saw she was being studied carefully.

"Sorry. Told you I'm a bitch."

"Why are you sorry? If you meant it… which you did…"

"Who says I did?" she grunted. "Hey-"

"I do," Bonnie told her in even tones as she finished pulling the guitar strap from around Marceline's neck. How could this awkward bean be so bold all of a sudden?! "You are blushing like I am blushing. That means you meant it, doesn't it?"

"No. It means… maybe I was out in the cold too long. Whatever."

Sighing like a patient teacher facing an obstinate student, Bonnie leaned over and took her lips gently. And poor Marcy felt her brain short-circuiting. This girl was going for it! How?! This girl?! Even more shameful was that it took three or four seconds for her to pull back from the kiss, panting and clutching at the bedspread.

"WHAT THE WHAT?!"

"Oh wow," Bonnibel whispered, reaching up to touch her own bottom lip with delicate fingers. "I did that."

"Yeah? Like, what, you're surprised you kissed somebody? That's fucking weird!"

"I am. I have never done it before, I didn't think it would be so easy. But I wasn't afraid like I expected to be, and I enjoyed the feeling."

One single fact kept Marcy from harping on about how bold of an assumption it was to kiss her out of nowhere. "Whoa, hold up. I'm really your first?"

"Yes," she breathed, cheeks warming to match Marceline's as she fidgeted with her fingers.

"That… amazing one you just planted on me was your first kiss?!"

Bonnie raised her eyebrows at her. "Oh, it was good?"

"Dude, I'm practically at full sail down here already!" When the hapless girl didn't seem to have any idea what she meant by that, she clarified, "Yes, it was good!"

"Oh. Then it was a successful experiment! Hooray!" Marceline just gaped at her open-mouthed. "We should do more experiments, I think."

"Yeah? What, you think I'm that easy?" she scoffed, trying to focus on reaching for her bass instead of blushing scarlet. But she barely touched the neck before firm hands were pinning her to the bed. "HEY!"

"You will assist me," the girl she had once mistaken for a marshmallow ordered her with a sly smirk.

Marceline finally understood that she had been hoodwinked. Well, not really; she believed this girl had no experience, but she had made the erroneous assumption that also meant she would be timid. Nope.

"I will? That's pretty interesting, I thought I got to decide that part."

"You do. But I already know you will decide to help me." Her hips started shifting on top of Marceline's, eyes briefly falling shut. "Mmm… mm?"

The rocker looked away, waiting for the backlash. Bracing to be shouted at, or called any number of names. She had been down that road before — most recently with Ash, who had no problem doing that to her but only when he was angry.

"You're a transgender person."

Stunned by the bluntness of the phrasing, she finally looked up to see nothing but surprise in Bonnie's features. No judgment, no disgust. "Um… yeah. Well, we prefer just 'trans'."

"Oh! 'Justrans' then." She shifted a few more times, prompting a little groan from both of them. "This will certainly make the experiment easier; I already know how to work with one of these from anatomy class."

Marcy knew she wasn't trying to be cruel. She could tell. But she still hissed up at her, "Can you like, not act like I'm some kind of sex slave robot? There's a real person with a real blackened soul down here."

With a little gasp, she covered her mouth. "Bloobalooby! I'm sorry, you're right." Her hips rolled again, sending a wave of heat down into the rocker from their point of contact, blinding her with pleasure. "Do you consent to experimenting with me sexually, and taking my virginity?"

Marceline could only sputter. And she almost told her 'no' simply because she was so shocked at the entire situation. But it was beginning to feel way too good. Why? Why did she want to?

"Sure. If you really don't care that I'm some problem you picked up off the side of the road."

"You are perfect." For just a second, Marcy felt a flutter in her stomach from such praise. Then Bonnie elaborated, "I'm comfortable with you, and I can tell that you are an adequate size to give me a wonderful first experience."

"Oh. That kind of 'perfect'. Right."

Genuinely puzzled, she tilted her head and asked, "What other kind is there?"

Instead of answering, Marceline pulled her down for a heated kiss. They kept that up while rolling around on the bed, running their fingers through each other's hair, humming into the contact. By the time they came up for air, she realized her sweater had disappeared.

"Can I see you?"

"Oh, is that going to help with the experiment?" Bonnie lowered her voice. "Am I… sexy?"

"Well, duh," she laughed as she dropped her jeans. But she fell speechless when she saw the shapely pink body coming into view. "I'm… yep. Definitely stand by my statement."

"I think you are sexy as well." But she was saying it shyly, as if stating a secret, rather than in a flirty way. This girl really didn't understand human sexuality but she was trying her best.

Weird but cute. And her face was glowing red like a stoplight… and Marceline liked red things.

They fell into each other with eagerness, kissing all over faces and necks as their bodies combined. Bonnibel was so soft inside, and her skin smelled like flowers. The little gasps and mewlings at the foreign sensations only made Marcy throb harder, willed her hips to begin moving.

Minutes later, she broke yet another kiss to whisper urgently, "I'm… I'm gonna finish, I d-don't have… a condom…"

"I'm on birth control, to regulate my cycle. I will not become pregnant." But she was biting her lip. The sensations had changed how she reacted. "Will you…? Please?"

She would. Moans fell freely from both of them as their bodies shifted faster and faster, until the dam burst and Marceline felt both their bodies convulsing with the proof of their pleasure. It was an instant, it was an eternity. It was everything.

As they lay curled up together, silence reigned for a few minutes. Experiment complete. Neither of the new quite what to say. Until finally Bonnie whispered, "You sang."

"Huh?"

"When you ejaculated. It was like singing." She closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips as her hand drifted up to cover her own heart. "It was so sweet…"

Marceline scoffed, resisting the temptation to roll over and away to protect her own feelings. "N-no way. I don't do 'sweet', you're loopy. Literally fucked your brains out."

"No, my brains are still intact," she teased with a light chuckle as she began to draw little circles on Marcy's pale shoulder. "And you sang. And I am very, very satisfied with your 'axe'."

That prompted a gleeful giggle from both women. "Told you. I slay all day, Bonnie-bae."

                                                      THE END