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hyperfix-wip · 1 month ago

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Trapped in a 9 to 5

Pairing: Prowler!Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4k

Author's Note: Part 2 is finally here! Ngl, this was supposed to be short fic...Whoops 🥲 Shoutout to @the-kr8tor for the babies Billie and Ramona! 🥹 I'd also like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading and for this border template!

Tags: Prowler!Hobie, Dad!Hobie, Older!Hobie, Fem!Reader, Older!Reader, Mom!Reader, Young!Aaron Davis, Brown Family!AU, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, TW Implied Family Issues

How did Aaron get here?

Traffic rings in his ears as he stands in front of an old, dilapidated wooden building amongst the towering brick-ridden jungle, the structure itself a small blemish to the otherwise metropolitan neighborhood within Brooklyn. Chipped yellow paint peels down on the walls, reminding Aaron of peeling skin as he unconsciously picks his cuticles. Overgrown vines of ivy cling along the building and the faded-blue picket fence. Pops of red, purple and yellow petals stand out against green shrubs lined in front of the building, along with the faded blue kiddie car sitting in the sun on the grass, with one of the eye stickers peeled off.

A brief impulse to climb into the toy car flickers in his mind despite him being too damn big and old for it, but he brushes the thought away as he pushes the gate open and slowly approaches the colorful, quaint building.

Aaron’s eyes continue to roam, taking in more of the painted wood and pops of greenery around the area, as if this little plot of property is hidden away from the cold, urban brick and concrete. The dark wood of the stair steps creak underneath his worn-out sneakers as he steps onto the patio, slowly approaching the dark green door and the rainbow-splattered wooden sign hanging on top.

F.E.A.S.T. Learning Center.

A reluctant groan rumbles in Aaron’s throat as he stares at the slab of wood, the blank state of the grinning pink bunny on the sign making his skin crawl, before he looks over his shoulder to the streets. Despite being in a completely different area than he’s used to, the dread of seeing anyone he knows still lingers in the back of his head.

How was he gonna explain to the boys why he’s in front of a damn preschool of all places without making himself sound like a damn creep?

With a wary frown, he turns back to the door, his shoulders sagging and his feet nervously bouncing. His hand hesitantly hovers over the gilded door knob for a moment, as if the golden paint will latch onto his palm and spread out all over his skin, before slowly wrapping around it and twisting it with a push.

The first sound that erupts behind the door was a child screaming.

A wailing little girl with pigtails runs past Aaron as he hesitantly walks through the doorway before a little boy with a suspiciously large, black object in his hand follows behind her.

“Tyler! Stop chasing Melanie with that spider!” A middle-aged teacher chastises the boy as she struggles to pick up another boy squirming in her grasp. “Austin, you gotta– you need to stop! You have to use the restroom before you end up wetting yourself again–”

“No!” The unruly boy whines while hanging over the lady’s arms. “I don’t need to go! I wanna keep playing–”

Aaron’s face instantly drops and pales at the chaos thrumming in these little gremlins. A little boy smacks another with blue paint all over his hand. Two little girls yelling at each other and having a tug-a-war with a stuffed cat, the poor toy silently begging for mercy while its arms stretch and gradually tear at the seams. A red-faced kid screams and punches the air on the floor while another one runs away with a broken toy car.

Jesus Christ. This is why Aaron never wants to have kids.

The urge to turn around and walk out the door crawls up to the back of Aaron’s head, but it quickly disappears as a small hand tugs on his sleeve. With a quick flinch Aaron snaps his head down, only for him to stare down at the familiar owlish russet eyes.

“Uh…hey, Ramona?” Aaron sheepishly chuckles before slowly kneeling down to her eye level. “Where’s your sister at?”

Ramona slowly blinks as she hugs a stuffed bunny against her chest, slightly unnerving the teen, before she turns her head towards the toy area and points at the ridiculous mountain of stuffed animals.

��Billie wanted to be buried alive by the stuffies.”

That’s a horrifying way of putting it. Especially with those eyes staring into his soul like that.

Aaron stares back at the little twin before he slowly covers her eyes with his hand, earning him a confused whine from her. “You think you can get her out of there for me?”

A small pout juts out from her lips as she pulls his hand off her face, her eyes now narrowing into thin slits. “She told me she wants to stay in there–”

“I’ll buy you two candy from the bodega before I take you home.”

And without another word, Ramona rushes to the pile of stuffed animals with a glint of determination in her eyes, diving into it with a muffled oof before burrowing herself inside.

With a scoff of disbelief, Aaron gets up and pulls his eyes away from the toy area before slowly approaching the weary teacher, wincing at the sight of the little boy kicking her in the shin before she finally drops him. The boy then eagerly runs off to his friends like nothing happened, leaving Aaron to help the kneeling woman up.

Aaron hopes the little shit pisses his pants.

“You aight, ma’am?” Aaron quietly asks as he gently lifts the teacher up by her arm.

A sheepishly tired chuckle slips through the woman’s mouth while she gets back on her feet, slowly straightening her back until soft cracks reverberate from her back. “I’ll live. If anything, this is nothing compared to how he was in the beginning. The little tyke used to have a bad habit of biting.”

The teacher rolls her shoulder back while she tilts her head to the side, wincing from a loud pop cracking from her neck, before she looks back up at Aaron with a skeptical raised eyebrow.

“Anyways, can I help you with something, son? You don’t look like any of my regulars.” Her eyes then widen before she covers her mouth, “unless you’re looking to enroll your own kid here, but you look too young to have one around their age–”

“Hell no–”

Aaron quickly cuts himself off and clears his throat, heat slowly creeping up in his cheeks.

Whoops, let’s try that again.

“I mean, no, ma’am,” Aaron forces a smile on his face. “I’m here to pick up Billie and Ramona.”

The moment their names pass through his lips, the teacher’s eyes instantly light up, and a warm smile curls up from her lips. “Oh, you’re the new babysitter Mr. Brown hired recently?”

Hired? More like threatened. The damn bastard practically manhandled Aaron to his place with his arm nearly snapping his neck. If it weren’t for the rest of the family, Aaron probably would’ve gotten his ass kicked and left in an alleyway…or worse.

Aaron fights off the urge to scoff as he stiffly nods with a strained smile. “Y-yeah. I was supposed to start this weekend, but I guess Mrs. Brown had something come up last minute…”

The teacher’s eyes soften at Aaron’s explanation before nodding along, “I see…” She then kneels down to pick up some toy cars and dolls off the ground, wincing slightly from the sore on her leg. “The poor dear… it must be hard for her, having to deal with so much while raising three kids.”

A pained grunt slips through the teacher’s lips as she pushes herself back up with toys in hand, silently waving Aaron off when he tries to help her up again. “Well, at least she has some help now. I know she’ll grin and bear it, but raising three little kids as a housewife is still rough on the body, especially hers–”

A shrill roar and a muffled scream erupts in front of the duo, and Aaron and the teacher turn their heads to the toy area. The mountain of stuffed animals crumbles down to the ground as a cackling Billie claws her way up, her mouth stretched out into a maniacal grin before she throws her head back with a booming evil laugh.

She kinda reminds Aaron of that little blue alien in that one cartoon; it doesn’t help that she’s wearing a blue hoodie with floppy ears either.

An amused huff bubbles up from the teacher while Aaron stares at the blue-hooded menace with disbelief, only for Billie to yelp and fall back into the pile of stuffies once an exasperated Ramona pops up from the toys and drags her twin back down.

“But as hard as it is to raise such energetic kids, she always manages to take it in stride,” the teacher shrugs with softened eyes, “always with a smile on her face, loving those kids with her whole heart.”

Aaron’s face gradually drops the more he listens. Little moments of you flash in his mind– running around the cramped living room with a crying Kitt strapped on your back and the twins’ jackets in your arms, carefully retying Billie’s hair while she babbles about her day, watching over Ramona stubbornly carrying a piles of plates to the dining table, wrangling the twins into their room for their bedtime.

Damn, you do all of that every day?

Do all moms do all that?

Before Aaron could think deeper into it, two tiny hands each grab onto his, and his eyes flick down to two pairs of russet doe eyes peering up.

“Yer gettin’ us sweets?” Billie stares up at him with awe. “Like the ones Daddy gets from Uncle Ned?”

A small snort slips through Aaron’s nose before a slight smile curls up on his lips. “Don’t know who that is, but probably not. The best I can do is…” Aaron carefully slides his hand out of Billie’s and shoves it in his jacket pocket, pulling out some dollar bills and a few quarters, “...a chocolate bar and some gummy bears? Maybe some Now and Laters too if I’m lucky–”

“Mon-mon, c’mon!” Billie cuts Aaron off with a determined furrowed brow as she grabs her sister’s hand. “We gotta put the stuffies away and get our things!”

With a giddy giggle, the blue-hooded girl drags her twin over to the scattered stuffed animals on the floor, leaving the teen alone with his thoughts once more.

Despite only meeting the twins and the rest of the Brown family last week, Aaron can’t help but feel a protective fondness over them (besides the Prowler himself; Aaron is still conflicted about how he feels about knowing the vigilante’s true identity). It was still strange for him being warmly welcomed by you and the kids that fateful day. Moments of warm food and a crowded table flicker in his mind– Billie babbling about her day with pasta sauce all over her face, Ramona trying to wipe her sister’s face with her napkin despite having some sauce on her face too, Hobie (still weird for Aaron to know his name) grabbing more napkins while feeding a giggling Kitt, and you watching over everyone with a content smile.

Is this how a normal family is supposed to be like?

Loud clattering snaps Aaron out of his pondering, and he glances down at the wooden clipboard held out in front of him.

“Just need you to sign them off and you’re good to go,” the teacher chuckles at the startled teen, “Mr. Brown already made a note for us to let you pick them up whenever you come over from now on.”

Aaron’s eyes waver at the sight of the clipboard before his hand hesitantly grabs it. “Right…thanks.” As he scrawls his name down, a flash of blue and green zooms off in the corner of his eye.

“Bye, Ms. May!” Billie chirps with a wide grin, revealing a small gap between her front teeth, before hugging the teacher’s legs. “We’re gettin’ sweets today!”

The teacher gazes down at the giggling Billie before gently patting her head. “Are you now? That’s wonderful, dear…”

While Billie continues to happily chat with the teacher, Ramona shyly approaches Aaron again, her hand reaching out and grabbing his long sleeve. “Mummy never lets us eat sweets after school…”

With a soft chuckle, Aaron shrugs and rests his hand on her head, careful not to disturb the green bow and large afro puff on top. “You guys can just hold onto them until you get home then.”

As Billie finally lets go of the teacher and waddles over to her twin and Aaron, his mind starts to drift back to that crowded dinner table– clanking tongs against plates, high-pitched giggles, soft guitar and piano playing in the background, a calloused hand reaching out for a smaller one for a tender grasp. Aaron swallows down the acrid lump in his throat while he absently takes the girls’ small hands, the warmth from their palms barely tethering him in the real world while the twins eagerly guide him out the learning center with the promise of sugary sweets.

—

Bustling passerbyers and honking cars ring through the streets, the familiar cacophony bringing a sense of comfort to Aaron while two small hands cling to his long fingers. Crinkles of plastic rustle amidst the traffic, with Ramona clutching onto the small bag of blue gummy sharks like a prized treasure, while Billie’s giddy chatter grabs onto Aaron’s mind from wandering too far.

“So Matty found this fat kitty today, like its belly was swingin’ back ‘n forth ‘n touchin’ the floor, ‘n we all secretly followed it to the garden in the back durin’ playtime,” Billie babbles on, her fingers idly toying with the serrated edge of the chocolate bar wrapper. “The kitty ended up goin’ un’neath the shed, ‘n when we looked, we saw a whole bunch of li’l kitties!”

Aaron’s eyes flick down to the bouncing girl by his side, absently nodding along with a hum, before drifting back up to the graffitied brick walls towering over them. Splashes of greens, purples, and pinks stain the walls like a canvas, and different tags crowd amongst each other in any available space in a chaotic yet beautiful harmony.

His fingers idly twitch underneath the girls’ palms, itching to pull out the new spray can in his backpack, but he clutches onto their little hands in restraint.

“Yeah?” Aaron clears his throat as his eyes dart around for any landmark he recognizes in the area– or anyone he would like to avoid at the moment– before he guides the girls across the street. “Are they gonna be like your class pets or something?”

Billie shakes her head with a disappointed pout. “Ms. May ended up findin’ the kitties too, so she called animal control. I wanna keep one, but Mummy said we can’t ‘cuz t’ demon lord said so.”

Aaron furrows his brows in confusion. Demon lord?

“There’s a demon lord tha’ rules over our ‘partment,” Ramona pipes into the conversation. “Daddy told me he ‘n Mummy have to give him money for us to live t’ere every month.”

Ah, got it.

“Must be a powerful demon lord,” Aaron snickers quietly, “especially if your dad of all people has to listen to them.”

“Yeah, but he has a big pot belly ‘n looks like a grumpy Santa,” Billie giggles. “Mummy said not to call ‘im demon lord, but Daddy said it’s okay to say it behin’ ‘is back–”

“Mummy!” Ramona suddenly shouts with glee as she lets go of Aaron’s hand and runs down the sidewalk, the soles of her velcro sneakers lighting up in flashes of green and pink with each slap against the concrete, and Billie follows soon after with the same eagerness. Panicked, Aaron takes off after them, his worn down soles barely gripping on the concrete and his eyes desperately dart for blue and green in the waves of beiges and blacks.

“Shit– wait, hold up! You guys are gonna get hurt–”

Aaron’s feet stumble and root down the moment he stops, his eyes finally spotting the blue floppy ears and green bow embraced in a blanket of white sitting on the bottom step of a stoop. You lift your head up with a brief flicker of surprise in your eyes while the twins cling to your sides– Ramona burying her face into your shoulder and Billie eagerly chatting and holding up her chocolate bar up to your face– before a warm smile curls up on your lips.

“Aaron!” A small huff of a laugh slips through your lips, a comforting chime amidst the blaring racket of the surrounding traffic. “Oh my god, thank you so much for picking Billie and Ramona up.” With eyes pooling with affection, you press your lips against the top of their heads. “Girls, can you go upstairs without me? I’m sure Daddy and Kitt would like to see your treats at home.”

Billie’s eyes light up before she scrambles away from your side, the enlarged fabric ears on her hoodie flopping behind her, before she walks around you and grabs Ramona’s hand. “Mon-Mon, c‘mon! Kitty can see your gummy sharks!”

Ramona lifts her head from your shoulder with a reluctant pout, but with a silent reassurance in your gaze, she slowly nods and pushes herself up from your arm before following Billie up the stoop, leaving Aaron alone with you for the first time.

You stare up at him with that same smile, your body draped with a white oversized sweater over black leggings and slippers, before you pull out a black plastic stick tucked behind you on the step and prop it on the ground–

Wait, is that a cane?

“I really do appreciate you picking the girls up,” you reiterate before gingerly pushing yourself up from the stoop with a pained grunt. Aaron immediately steps up to help you in a panic, but you quietly wave him off with a sheepish smile as you grasp onto the edge of the concrete wall. “Normally I would go myself, but Hobie was too stubborn to let me out of bed today. Barely convinced him to let me go outside and wait here until you got them home.”

Aaron can’t help but stare at the cane in your grasp, your hand trembling around the handle, before he hesitantly looks back up at you. “Uh…yeah, s’no problem.”

When the Prowler first coerced told him about this whole arrangement, Aaron knew he got roped in as a damn on-call babysitter. Yeah, he was promised he can shadow the purple-clad vigilante for some robberies during the weekends, but with the way the bastard scared the shit out of him popping up on him out of the blue after school–

(“Hey, li’l man, I need you to–”

“WHAT THE FU–”)

– Aaron couldn’t help but think that the whole thing wasn’t worth it.

But this?

Propping your arm up and grabbing the other end of the cane, your fingers lightly tap along the hollow plastic while you tilt your head with a tired smile. “Honestly, I told Hobie I didn’t want to bother you last minute today, but he can be such a hardass, y’know? Like, you’re a teenager. You still have your own life and all, and–”

Your rambling ebbs through his ears in muffled waves, his thoughts too absorbed by the sight of you clinging onto the edge of the wall like a baby deer learning how to walk. You weren’t like this last time– you were holding a squirming baby Kitt with no problems, giving Billie a piggyback ride across the room without breaking a sweat, dancing with Ramona in the kitchen and still had the energy to chase down the Prowler of all people when he snuck a bite.

“ – I swear, the man never talks when it matters most,” you roll your eyes with a huff of mock disgruntlement. “He probably just told you to go pick up the girls without any explanation before heading off to work–”

Why the hell are you still talking to him? Don’t you need to go back home with the kids? Or at least sit back down?

“My god, anyway,” you let out an embarrassed scoff as you shake your head and hobble down from the stoop, with Aaron’s heart shooting up to his throat in a panic, “I feel really bad about having you come all the way over here for this, I honestly would have handled picking up the girls myself.”

With a small scoff, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. “Hobie didn’t even tell me how he was gonna pay you for helping out with the kids, and I know he didn’t tell you. I’ll just send you some money through Venmo or something–”

“Wait– no, no, no, no, no!”

Aaron instantly stops you from fiddling with your phone, “you really don’t need to–”

“Wha– no! It’s fine! Plus you got the girls some candy, so I can at least pay you back–”

“No, you really don’t, seriously–”

His voice wavers the more he looks down at your trembling grip on the cane. Were you like this last time? How come he never noticed before?

“I can just eat over here again,” Aaron blurts out, his ears pounding and tingles crawling along the back of his head. Heat prickles the back of his neck as he clears his throat and looks away from you, his voice trailing off the more he’s under your scrutiny.

“Like, whenever you need me to babysit and all’at… ‘m fine with just eating with everybody again…”

The lingering silence muffles and clings to Aaron’s ears, and it grows suffocating the longer it goes. Squirming and shifting his weight on his feet, he nervously glances back at you, only to meet the soft amusement in your gaze as you prop your cane on the concrete and straighten up.

It’s weird; he should hate that look in your eyes. Normally his skin would prickle and his blood would boil under those kinds of eyes– like they won’t take him seriously, like he’s a damn kid. Honestly, he’d rather take the thinly-veiled anger and suspicion he usually sees than some smug belittlement.

But with you? It doesn’t feel like that at all. It feels…warm, somehow?

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce with a reluctant smile and a tap from your cane, “if you say so. But just so you know, I’m gonna have Hobie talk to you about payment either way. He mentioned having you tag along with him for work during weekends, so you should at least get something out of that.”

The mere mention of work from your lips makes his stomach churn. Do you know about the Prowler? Could he even talk about it with you?

“Anyway–” your voice once again cuts through the spiraling thoughts, a playful glint shining in your eyes– “since you’re here, did you wanna come up and stay for dinner again? Hobie and the girls are thinking of making some stew, but I’ll make sure to keep an eye on them and keep the kitchen intact.”

A small huff of laughter slips through Aaron’s nose despite himself, the casual invitation back to that chaotically warm family table making his heart lurch, but the weight of the spray paint in his backpack suddenly grows heavier, the straps biting into his shoulders.

“...m’bad, not tonight,” Aaron reluctantly sighs, his stomach churning from your eyes flickering in disappointment. “Got something else going on later…”

You nod along with an understanding smile, something that Aaron can’t help but feel he doesn’t deserve at the moment. “Maybe next time then. Make sure you stay safe, okay?”

His heart squeezes tighter from the clear concern in your voice, tightening even more when you turn around and attempt to hobble back up the stoop. He rushes up by your side and gently takes your free arm, heat flaring up on his cheeks from the surprise in your eyes.

“At least let me do this much…” Aaron mumbles, his eyes refusing to leave the concrete steps while he gingerly helps you up the steps. “Just until you get to the top…”

Ignoring the burning flush on his nape and on his cheeks, he continues to help you ascend to the front door, all the while your laughter chimes through the racket of the ongoing traffic.

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie x y/n #dad!hobie #hyperfix wip wips #prowler!dad #prowler!hobie #young aaron davis #aaron davis #billie and ramona

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yumeaoka-chan · 5 months ago

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A Sure Thing

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Demon! Hobie x Angel! Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Tags: fluff, family time, fighting (just sparring), cursing, badass R(in a sense), title based off of Sure Thing by Miguel, teenage! Billie & Ramona, lovesick hobie, lovesick r, (your friends being disgustingly cute), R is AFAB, no physical description of R (besides clothing), nephalem! children

Summary: You come home to find Hobie and Ramona sparring, because of course they would be.

A/N: So... suprise? Another part to the au, I guess😭🤚 Along the lines of an epilogue. Billie, Ramona, and third child belong to @the-kr8tor 💕💕 I just came up with the son's name.

Part 1 <<< Part 5

Sweat beads at his brow, his chest heaving as he reaches over his desk for his phone. A scowl on his face when he can't quite seem to grab the blasted thing, breath growing heavier the more seconds that tick by. Where was his good for nothing secretary when he needed her?

“The stupid bitch”, the man spits as he loosens his tie, sweat dampening his crisp black suit. He blinks as his vision suddenly swims, colors bleeding together into a blurry mass of light. The man gasps, hair slipping into his eyes and chest aching. The room seems to tilt on its axis and he feels hot, too hot, too cramped. He wants to peel his skin, scratch the itch that has settled on his bones.

Then, like magic, the sensations are gone. Like water has doused the flames. The ache in his chest still lingers and with a shaky hand, he pushes back his hair, gaze stuck on the ceiling. When had he looked up? And had the lights always been off? Shaking his head free of the thought, the man wipes the sweat from his brow. That had been… strange. Perhaps he should go to the hospital, especially since it felt like his legs were glued to the floor, his butt melded into the luxurious office chair. Blinking slowly, he lets his eyes drift back down towards the door of his office, only to startle at the woman standing in front of him. Eyes skimming the figure before him, he sneers and scrunches his nose up in disgust.

“What the hell are you doing here? Security knows better than to let filth in here!” The man barks angrily, lifting his hand up to shoo the woman towards the door. Only to feel a sharp pain overcome his entire body at the motion, like needles pricking his skin and alighting his nerves. His eyes flutter before he fixes his glare at the sound of soft laughter.

“Security couldn't stop me if they tried, Mr. George Barnaby Miller”, you say softly with a chuckle, fiddling with a loose strand of fabric on your jacket. You sweep your gaze over to the stocky man behind the grand desk, movements calm and almost carefree as you slowly saunter closer towards him. A haughty man on his throne. You scoff and shake your head as an amused smile flits across your face. Where oh where have you seen that before…? Miller furrows his eyebrows at you, scowl painted on his thin lips.

“You know my name…? Never mind that”, the man huffs, hands shaky as he pulls at his collar. He clears his throat and taps a finger on his desk, demanding your attention. And with amusement sparkling in your eyes, you give it to him. “Take me to a hospital, stat. Get me there fast enough and I'll make it worth your while. Also, you'll address me as Mr. Miller, brat.”

“Hm. How about… no?” Miller narrows his eyes at your words, fire lurking beneath the depths and threatening to burn you. You aren't fazed by the flames.

“No…? You don't get to tell me no, you useless wretch. Get me there at once!”

“Why would I bring an already dead man to the hospital”, you question with a laugh, snorting at the blank look he gives you. Disbelief colors his gaze and he sneers, shaking his head and pounding a fist on the desk. It doesn't rattle, which seems to get his attention. The air is almost stale, like time has all but ceased at this moment. The man swallows a lump that forms in his throat before giving a haughty smirk, leaning back in his chair.

“Threatening me will do you no good here. Do you even know who I am, trash?”

“I do, actually! Born March 26th, 1925, father died when you were young. Hm, let me just…” With a flick of your wrist, tiny glittering gray clouds materialize into existence, littering the air around the two of you. They swirl and shine and flicker, until a sudden flash of bright light reveals the moving pictures hidden within. You can hear Miller's breath hitch at the sight, see as a hint of trepidation begins to flicker in his eyes. A smile on your lips, you stuff your hands in the pockets of your jacket and sit up top the very edge of his desk. Before he can protest, you jerk your head towards a specific gray cloud.

“Pretty, isn't it? Know what these are, Miller? They're memories. Moments in time, your time.” You mumble as you both peer at a shimmering gray cloud. The moving image inside shows a young boy cackling as he steals from poor beggars on the street, spitting in their faces before running off. The image flickers before showing the boy slapping and demanding money from a tired looking woman. She hands the boy cash with tears in her eyes

“You've always liked money and shiny things. Didn't seem to care who you were taking it from, just as long as it ended in your pockets.” You mused as you idly scratched at your neck, noting how the man behind you is silent as he watches the scene unfold. With a shrug, you nod your head at a different cloud, the flickering scene showing the same woman from before. Only now, she's bowing her head and seemingly spewing apologies towards a fuming couple. The couple have their arms wrapped around a heavily pregnant girl, who could be no older than fifteen. They're shouting as they point at the boy from before, who's older now and smirking with his hands behind his head.

“Poor girl. Got her pregnant and kept denying the baby was yours. Gotta say, nothing has changed about that.” You mumble as the scene flickers to a new one, showing the older boy now wooing another girl as the pregnant girl from before weeps at his feet. This was only making your job easier. You motion to yet another gray cloud and the two of you watch another memory. This goes on and on for what Miller thinks is hours, all the scenes portraying everything he'd ever done in his lifetime. When the clouds poof away in a shimmer of tiny sparkles, he glares at you with his jaw clenched, nostrils flared in barely restrained anger.

“What the hell do you want from me…?” That makes you scoff loudly, shaking your head as you move off of his desk and stand in front of him once more.

“You don't get it, do you Miller…? All those memories we've just sat here and watched, moments of you being nothing but a dick to people… That was your life. That's how you'll be remembered. All the pain you caused, all the lives you ruined. You abused people, your wife, your children. Discarded those who didn't fit into your perfect ideal vision like the children you had from numerous affairs. Stole from the poor, ravaged the needy. That's all they'll see when they think of you.” He laughs, a deep guffaw that comes from the belly as he slaps a hand on the desk. Like your speech just tickled him. With a sigh, you look at him with exasperation as you wait for him to finish. It takes several more moments before he finally quiets down, chuckles leaving his lips as he wipes at his tears.

“Gotta admit… That was a good one. You act as if I should care, as if my heart should bleed for those pathetic sacks of shit. Life has no room for scum like that. They should be thanking me.” Miller spits out, words a hiss of venom for all those people he trampled upon. “I taught them that only elites like me belong in this world, that they should apologize for even being born. No matter how they remember me, it'll never take away from the fact that they should have never been placed on this damn planet to begin with. They'll remember their place in this world, thanks to me!” You just stare at him, silence all you can muster for several heartbeats as he heaves from the drivel he'd uttered. With a sharp inhale, you nod your head, removing your hands from your pockets.

“Okay…”, you breathe softly, standing up straighter as you step back from the desk a bit. “That was your chance at redemption, at repentance, and you squandered it. You won't be mourned…” Angry veins threaten to pop out of his forehead as he gives you a nasty look, eyes wide and teeth bared with fury that makes his entire body shake. He points a thick, manicured finger adorned with several rings at you, hand shaking and twitching with the painful spasms that seemed to wrack his body. The guilty always did like to snap their teeth when it was unnecessary, especially if they knew that deep down, they were in the wrong.

“Know your damn place! Who the fuck are you to judge me, you filthy quim?!” The man's heavy breathing is all that can be heard in the silence of the office, the air now growing colder and thicker. As he wiped at the sweat that was starting to drip down his temples again, he could feel his temper dissipating slowly. You remained staring at him, unblinking and the slight shine to your eyes fading, like the warmth of your gaze was growing colder. There's something stirring around you, something sparking like static. Like a dangerous current of energy. Miller can see it, feels his breathing grow heavier with slight trepidation. Trepidation that slowly shifts into fear at the way the lights in the room start to flicker.

You tilt your head at him and the very ground starts to shake. The eerie look in your eyes grows all the more frigid as they start to glow a bright white, peering deep into what he feels like is his very soul. Papers and supplies suddenly shoot up into the air, whirling and spinning about the two like a raging tornado. The lights flicker sporadically, the violent winds rustling his clothes and whipping him in the face as he gazes up at you in horror. There, erupting from your back and spreading out wide behind you are a pair of glorious wings, casting a large ominous shadow about the room. The feathers gleam and glitter, shifting from pristine white to pitch black with every movement as you lift up into the air. Divine, radiant energy crackles around you, around your very fingertips as you point a finger directly at the shivering dead. Fear grips its icy claws into Miller's non beating heart and refuses to release him as you speak, your voice seeming to rattle his very bones, thundering in his ears like the most vicious of storms.

“I am peace. I am agony. I am light. I am darkness. I am protector. I am avenger. The Heaven's bell ringer. The Hells’ caterer. The Angel who hath fallen from grace. The Angel who hath conquered her fall. The Heavens and Hells demand judgment for thee and judgment I shall bestow.”

Just as his trembling lips begin to part, hastily trying to plead for mercy, a crackling bolt of energy erupts from the tip of your finger. His screams echo in your ears as his soul writhes and twitches, shrinking down, down, down. Until it is but a glowing orb floating listlessly above the desk. The howling wind slowly subsides, the papers and office supplies clattering onto the floor around you. You flutter back down to the floor, stumbling as you land on your feet. Groaning, you place a hand against your head and shake away the lingering glow of your eyes. One day, you'd get used to this part of the job. Hopefully.

Sighing, you beckon the floating red orb towards you with a flick of your finger, tucking it into your pocket once it glided into your palm. The sound of clapping makes you jump, your head whipping around towards the source. Serenity giggles at you as she nears you, hands on her hips as she nods her head.

“Doesn't matter how many times I see it, you're always so bloody terrifying. It's a good look, babes”, she hums as she links her arm with yours. You roll your eyes and shake your head, a smile flitting across your face despite yourself.

“I suppose. I wonder if it'd have the same effectiveness if I was actually in control of that part of the job.” You mumble as you feel a ghost of a hand on your shoulder, patting it in what you're sure was thanks. The Almighty. After giving you your wings back after killing Osborn, the entity had bestowed you with a new title befitting your new sense of self. Not just an Angel but nowhere near a demon. More so, you were the bridge between the Heavens and Hells, delivering judgment to those whose vile acts have threatened the lives of more than just a handful of people. An amazing job that you did with pride and great care, fairly judging the souls that were required of you. The only downside to the whole thing was that you couldn't control when you gave the whole spiel you did earlier. As long as it terrified your targets into knowing the severity of their actions, it didn't bother you.

“Oh, trust. You don't need a speech to be terrifying”, Reni says with a playful scoff, making you chuckle as you open a portal to your home. It then struck you that Serenity was here. On Earth. With a gasp, you turn and look at her with wide eyes.

“Now that I'm thinking about it, why the hell are you here? You shouldn't be out and about like this right now. How did you even get Ned to let you leave the Hells?” She groans and rolls her eyes, patting her pregnant belly with a sigh.

“I had to sneak out. I was feeling cramped! And nobody does funnel cake better than the humans, okay?” Serenity says with a sheepish smile, poking your cheek when you frown at her. “Neddy was fussing over me too much and I needed a break. Not that I don't like when he's clingy. The baby wanted earth food so she gets earth food, dammit! I'm a fully grown succubus, I think I can handle a trip while pregnant.”

“Ned is probably losing his shit right now”, you sigh heavily as you tug your friend along with you into the portal. “He gets a little dumb when it comes to you. Imagine how he's gonna act when he sees you missing.” Reni just groans and stomps her feet as she trails behind you, knowing that you were right. It makes you giggle.

You feel the weight of your day lifting off of your shoulders as you both emerge from the portal, the sight of your home filling you with warmth. A smile flits across your face as you both walk towards the cottage, heart soaring at the sight of your little Aiden running towards you.

Reni lets go of you so that you can open your arms wide, letting out a small oof when the eight year old collides into you. A chuckle leaves your lips and you pull him closer, fingers softly pushing the locs over his eyes away from his face. Aiden smiles up at you with gleaming eyes, dopey and lopsided just like his father. It always astounded you just how much he looked like Hobie, to the point he could be considered his mini me. At least he had your eyes.

“Welcome home, Mummy”, he says sweetly, beaming up at you in the most adorable way that your heart aches. Cupping his face in your hands, you press a loving kiss to his forehead and nuzzle your nose against his.

“I'm home, my darling. What have you been up to today while I was gone”, you coo softly as you lean back a bit to look at him properly. His nose twitches before he gives you an endearing look. Uh oh. A tell-tale sign that he was about to lie. You release him with a raised eyebrow, hands on your hips as you wait for his little story. Aiden chuckles softly and clasps his hands behind his back, black wings drooping behind him a bit.

“W-Well…! I, uh… I paid attention durin’ class today! Mr. O'Hara said I was good! And then, uh… I-I came home and did my homework. Honest!” His cute little smile almost makes you forget that he's lying straight through his teeth. You hum before glancing down at his shirt, noting the dirt caked onto his sleeve. Oh, of course.

“Aiden Lokius Brown, answer me truthfully. You and your sisters have been sparring with your father again, haven't you?” He shakes his head furiously, nose twitching all the while. You suppose that one day he'll get a handle on that. Just as he goes to open his mouth to deny your claims, an arm wraps around your shoulders. A deep chuckle sounds in your ears and you turn to see Hobie beaming down at you. His golden eyes sparkle and his locs spill over his shoulder as he peers at you, a knowing grin on his face.

“Wha’ is all this ‘bout sparrin’, huh? Aiden and I've been doin’ nothin’ but homework. Right, terror?” He drawls as he looks down at a slightly shocked Aiden, who quickly pulls his facial expression together before giving you a shaky smile. The sight makes you narrow your eyes and you gaze back up at Hobie with a knowing smirk, the demon before you visibly sweating under your scrutiny. After a beat of silence, you lean away from him and fold your arms.

“Come on, Billie. Jig is up”, you hum softly, biting back the grin as ‘Hobie’ groans with defeat. A shimmer of dark purple light flickers around him, before the form of your demon melts away, revealing your pouting sixteen year old. She huffs and folds her arms as she looks at you, brown wings drooping a bit in disappointment at being found out. Her clothes are mussed, dirt cakes her cheeks, and her hair has leaves sticking out of it.

“How'd you know it was me? Thought my Dad impression was spot on.” Billie grumbles, scrunching up her nose as you rub some of the dirt off of her face. A chuckle leaves your lips as you playfully yank at one of her curls.

“You and your brother should have planned this out a bit more. Besides, you forgot to add our birthstones that he wears in his hair and his necklace”, you say as you show off your ruby one that matched his sapphire one. Billie just pouts and kicks up dust with her feet before letting out a loud sigh.

“Okay, fine. We were sparring with Dad, though he only wrestled with Aiden. He and Mona are going at it right now.” You just close your eyes at her words before shaking your head and heading to the backyard, your children trailing behind you. The sounds of a scuffle grow louder the closer you get, eyes wide at the scene that greets you.

The flowers you'd planted were all but scorched, lingering purple flames burning the grass beneath it. The very earth looked as though it had been cracked open by an earthquake, the pergola now sitting lopsided. The large oak tree that you and Hobie both adored was now split in half straight down the middle. And there Hobie was, too busy sparring with his daughter to notice the state of everything. The chaos of it all just makes you sigh and you hear Reni’s voice coming up beside you, turning to see Riri at her side as well. The cambion shakes her head and grins as she points at the two, gently nudging your side with her elbow.

“Ramona’s lasted longer than the other two. Wonder if she'll finally beat him this time”, Riri says with an excited gleam in her eyes. You shoot her a glare and huff.

“Ri, you know I don't want them doing this. Look at this mess!”

“If it's any consolation, it doesn't look half as bad as last time”, Reni whispers softly, a sympathetic look on her face as she pats your back. Her hand stills suddenly and you glance at her in confusion before biting back the amused giggle from leaving your lips. Standing a few feet away is Ned, newly finished knitted blanket for the baby clutched in his hands and a frown on his trembling lips as he meets eyes with Serenity. He's quick to march over, the crow demon very clearly upset at the fact that his girl had up and disappeared on him. You watch with a barely contained grin as Reni gives him a sheepish, apologetic smile before gaping at him in shock. Unshed tears shine in his red rimmed eyes as he looks down at her, face slightly red as though he'd been crying. Poor guy. Ned sniffles before folding his arms, the blanket he made still clutched in his hands.

“Go on. Tell me where you were.” He huffs and Serenity all but caves at the sight of him, hands cupping his cheeks as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips. Riri groans beside you at the sight but refrains from booing them, clearly seeing how upset Ned is.

“I'm sorry, Neddy bear. The baby was making me crave funnel cake and I was feeling really cramped at home. I should've told you, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be this upset about it, honest!”

“Course I was! You're pregnant, babe! This is our first ever child and I don't want you to strain yourself.” Ned sighs before wrapping his arms around her in a hug. “If you want to get out sometimes, then just tell me. I can always walk with you or have someone else go with you, okay? Promise not to sneak out anymore? It's not good for my heart.”

“Aw. I promise, love.” Serenity coos before kissing him, Riri now officially starting to boo them. Ned flips her off, which makes you laugh. Some things never change. Taking a deep breath, the crow demon gazes around at his surroundings with wide eyes.

“Oh, shit. Wha’ happened here?” A groan leaves you as you're suddenly reminded of the chaos. The cambion besides you snorts at your friend's words.

“Took you long enough, Neddy boy.” You chose not to dwell on the thought of repairs and shift your gaze to observe the fight closely. It looks as though the long sparring session was about to come to an end, Ramona panting heavily as sweat dripped down her forehead. Hobie smirks at his daughter and tilts his head, voice taunting as he speaks.

“Come now, Mayhem. That all you got? Thought you said you was gonna make me eat dirt, huh?” He snickers before beckoning the panting teen closer. Mona grits her teeth, eyes glowing a deep blue and dark brown wings puffing up with growing irritation. Energy crackles around her then, sharp and scorching, almost like lightning. Then, she suddenly disappears in a shimmer of blue smoke, the wispy clouds dissipating into the air. Ramona appears in front of him in a shimmering puff of smoke then, quick as lightning as she kicks him in the chest. Hobie grunts before moving to grip her leg, only for his fist to close around nothing. She's behind him, aiming another kick to his back. Just as he turns around, Mona has appeared at his right, smoke billowing in her hair. She lands quick harsh jabs and kicks, moving so fast that it's hard for any of you to really keep up. Blue smoke trails after her with every new spot she teleports to.

“Go, Mona, go!” Billie cheers and Aiden jumps excitedly beside her, the two overjoyed to see their father actually getting stumped for once. Hobie chuckles, shocked and proud that he's being forced to defend himself before clicking his tongue.

“As amazin’ as this is, Mac”, he grunts before shooting out a hand to grab Ramona by the collar of her jacket right as she appears in front of him. Her eyes widen and she yelps as he suddenly flips her over his shoulder, the two tumbling onto the burnt remains of the grass below. Landing on her back with a groan, she glares up at her smirking father, slapping at his arm firmly pressed against her shoulder. Hobie chuckles and tilts his head down at where he has her pinned, his victory clear. “Not really good to be predictable, innit.”

“Ugh. One of these days, ‘M gonna win.” Ramona huffs, chest heaving and the blue glow of her eyes fizzling out. Aiden and Billie boo at Hobie as he helps her up, patting her head affectionately. Which earns him a pout and a slap on his hand.

“I look forward to seein’ it, Mon. Now, I've got to see to snoggin’ your mum.” A loud guffaw leaves you at his words and you gape at him incredulously while he jogs over to you, your children and Riri giving him a collective number of boos which does nothing but make him laugh and wiggle his eyebrows at them. You can see your reflection in his golden gaze when he's finally close enough, eyes warm and glittering with affection. Dark flawless skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat and piercings glinting in the sunlight, you have to reign in the way your eyes dare to stray lower down the opening of his loose white cotton shirt. His hair spills over his shoulder, crystals in his hair clinking together softly.

Hobie smiles down at you and places his hands on your hips, fingers looping in your belt loops and tugging you closer to him. The action alone makes your breath hitch and the way he looks down at you through his long lashes is enough to make you almost swoon. You reel yourself in, however, crossing your arms and giving him a pointed look. It makes him pause, stopping himself from leaning further down and raising an eyebrow in question at the look on your face.

“Wha's the matter, lovie?” Hobie asks curiously, fingers fiddling with your belt loops still. Narrowing your eyes and letting out a huff, you sweep out an arm to gesture to the ruins of your backyard. Gold eyes sweeping to survey the damage, he winces slightly, lips turning up into a sheepish, apologetic grin.

“O-Oh… We got carried away, huh…?” Hobie chuckles softly, biting at his bottom lip and batting his lashes down at you.

“Don't try getting cute with me. Look at this! I thought I told you I didn't want you sparring with the kids. What if someone got hurt?” The words make your demon scoff, shaking his head as he leans in closer to you, cool breath fanning your heated cheeks. You could tell what he was trying to do and part of you was certain you could resist him. A very small part, though.

“You know I'd never harm my monsters, yeah? Nothin’ happened, love. Nobody got hurt, promise”, Hobie mumbles as one of his hands move to tenderly grip your chin, lifting your face up closer to his, lips just inches from your own. The tip of his nose brushes lightly against yours and you smile up at him so sweetly, so tenderly, your hands moving to wrap around his waist, fingers drawing little patterns on his sides. Your eyes flutter as he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, your forehead, your nose. As he peppers little kisses on your skin while trying to work you into letting him fully kiss you properly, your fingers trail lightly up his side. Brushing them along his chest, you gently poked right at the space his ribs would be, smirking up at him knowingly when he inhales sharply.

“Nobody got hurt, huh…?” You whisper softly before leaning back to gaze up at him with a raised eyebrow. Hobie lets out a huff of a laugh at being found out before shrugging.

“She got me good, wha’ can I say?” You scoff and roll your eyes.

“They're all getting stronger, Hobes. One of these days, they're gonna give you bruises”, you mumble as you gaze up at him.

“That just means I've gotten sloppy”, he says with a cheeky grin that irks you, a little annoyed that he's still joking about the fighting. Pursing your lips, you pull away from his embrace and fold your arms. Hobie lets out a confused hum, quick to loop his fingers back into your belt loops and gently tugging to pull you back to him. You don't budge, shooting him a glare.

“Nope. You lost kissing privileges.” Hobie's gold eyes widen slightly before a pout forms on his lips, fingers tugging you closer still. He leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder, hands slowly trailing up your hips to your waist and thumbs rubbing tender patterns on your sides. His voice is a low whisper, a whiny mumble that makes your heart ache and your slight resolve to punish him falter.

“I really can't get any smooches? ‘M really sorry, lovie. Gimme a kiss, please?” And now he was asking politely? The stern expression on your face was breaking and you shiver as you feel his lips press tenderly against your neck, piercing cold against your flesh. Hobie's kisses move up higher towards your jaw, as soft as silk and enough to send your heart thundering in your chest.

“Let me kiss you, angel, please? My pretty, pretty, angel”, he murmurs between kisses, effectively melting your heart and shattering your resolve. You sigh and gaze up at him with dreamy eyes as he pulls back to look down at you properly, one of his hands guiding yours to rest on his chest while the other gently cups your cheek. You can feel the fluttering of his heart beneath your palm and Hobie gives you such a dazzling smile full of warmth and adoration that you swoon. His lips press against yours then, soft and sweet and making your heart soar into the clouds. Your eyes flutter shut and you lean into him more, never able to get enough of him it seems. His pounding heart beneath your fingers makes your brain short circuit and the breathy chuckle he gives against your lips makes you weak in the knees.

“Am I forgiven”, Hobie mumbles against your lips, voice deep and low and like the smoothest of chocolates. Damn him for being so utterly perfect, for making a home for himself in your heart and soul. And when he looks down at you with sparkling golden pools of devotion to you and only you, you're reminded of just how much of a goner you are. You softly nod your head, leaning in for another kiss and melting at the pleased hum that escapes him.

“One of these days, I'll stop giving in to you so easily.” You whisper, which makes him chuckle and adorn you with more affection. Only for you both to yelp at the cold splash of water hitting you both. Eyes wide with disbelief and now dripping wet, you both whip your head towards the direction it had come from before glaring at your twin daughters. Billie and Ramona are quick to shake their heads and point over to a sheepish looking Aiden holding a water balloon in his hands.

“Terror…” Hobie warns as he shakes his head free of water, narrowing his eyes at his son who drops the balloon on the ground and holds up his hands pleadingly.

“Wait, wait! Auntie Ri told me to do it!” Aiden cries while pointing to Riri, who gives him an incredulous look.

“You little snitch!” That was all Hobie needed before he bolted towards them, both Riri and your son screaming and running away from the soaked demon King who was hot on their heels. The sight sends you keeling over with laughter, tears escaping your eyes and chortles leaving your lips as you grip your stomach. You'd never tire of moments like these. Not when you finally have an eternity to make more of them.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #fanfic #hobie x reader #demon hobie #angel reader #billie and ramona #the demon i cling to #nephalem children #atsv hobie

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the-kr8tor · 6 months ago

Text

Into the Eye of the Needle

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 11.6k

Summary: Billie and Ramona falls back in time during the 90s, meeting the younger versions of their parents and finding that your relationship with their dad is in shambles. Will they be able to help in repairing it before they cease to exist?

Tags: no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), use of Y/N sparsely. Mum! Reader, Dad! Hobie, twin au, dad au, Billie and Ramona au, TTN au (but you don't need to read it to understand this one), time travel au, cw food mentions, fluff.

A/N: Behold! One of the silliest fic and most self indulgent fic I ever wrote lol enjoy

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Dad! Hobie Masterlist

Octobie🎸

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” Billie and Mona's voices echo around the house as you and Hobie clean the living room before you start setting up for Halloween.

“Damnit!” Billie's unmistakeable frustrated tone floats from upstairs down to the living room.

Hobie sighs and meets with your eyes across the room whilst he's holding up the entire sofa with one hand and with a vacuum on the other. “They got your vocabulary.”

The feather duster pauses in your hand and the picture frames on the wall that you're dusting stop swinging. “And they got your love for doing chores.” You say sarcastically.

Hobie wants to abandon the cleaning and snog you right there and then. Which might prove your words right if he does. With a promise and a wink towards you, he calls the girls. “Mac and Cheese!”

The sounds of bounding feet reverberates, and a moment later, their almost identical faces pop up from the top of the stairs. “Yeah?” They say at the same time.

You smile at them with fondness. But you show them that you mean business with your hands on your hips. Hobie calls it your mum pose, and your children call it the ‘we’re in trouble’ pose.

“Your mum asked the two of you to grab the boxes from the attic, not just one of you. Stop playin’” He glances at you briefly, and he gets a nod of approval from you.

“But playin’ rock, paper, scissors is an old age tradition on who gets to do the chores!” Billie answers back.

“Didn't you and uncle Ned used to do it when you were roommates?” Mona, being Mona, backs her sister with a smart rhetoric.

Teenagers, you sigh in your mind. “Well when me and your dad were roommates, we did all the chores together. That made it more fun.”

“Ew, mum!” They say simultaneously, groaning and acting like they're about to vomit.

You cross the distance towards Hobie, and he in turn puts the sofa down gently as he abandons the vacuum to hold your waist instead.

“Wait, what did I say?” You ask the three of them.

“We didn't need to hear what you and dad were up to back then, mum!” Billie even covers her ears dramatically as Mona fakes a gag.

Hobie chuckles next to you as realization hits you. “I didn't mean it by that—”

“If you gremlins don't go to the attic in the count of ten you're goin’ to hear a lot more.” Hobie cuts you off, and you play by his bit when you send him a sultry wink. “One…” they're already running up the stairs and up the ladder before you could even smooch Hobie. “Works like a bloody charm.” He says as he pecks your cheek lovingly, all the while chuckling against your soft skin.

—

“Why is it so dusty in ‘ere?” Mona coughs, while Billie sifts through the numerous boxes in the small attic.

The attic smells of old clothes left in the wardrobe for far too long and mildew clinging on wood. The place is big enough to fit dozens of boxes and bags but small enough to let the girls crawl and not stand up lest they want to get a full face of cobwebs clinging on the ceiling.

“I think they're just spider webs, Mon.”

“That is not better, Bee.”

“Our dad is literally part spider—ohh!” Billie holds up a pair of old jeans with white lace sewn into the ripped parts. “This is so cute!”

“Looks like mum's.” Mona checks it for any damage, she finds none but she does find Hobie's name scribbled on the tag. “Nope, it's dad's.”

Billie scrunches her nose. “Doesn't look like dad's.”

“You never know what kind of fashion he had back then.” Her sister shrugs, taking her attention away from the jeans to a wooden box that looks more enticing. “We're talkin’ ‘bout the 90s ‘ere. Dad probably had a leather jacket for every day of the week—” she hears shuffling behind her and Billie's already rifling through the entire box without a care. “And she's gone.”

Billie doesn't hear her, “this one suits you, Mon!” Lifting up a long sleeved blouse with a hummingbird embroidered on each collar, Billie brings it on Mona's chest to see if it fits her. “Hmm, a bit small but nothin’ like a pair of high waisted jeans couldn't fix it!”

“I like this one actually,” Mona smiles, tracing the colourful stitched bird on the collar with her thumb. “This was definitely mum's. Dad would never wear somethin’ with a collar like this.”

“Good find, huh? Say ‘thank you,’ Bee.” She shuffles, dancing excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, Bee.” Mona rolls her eyes before folding the blouse neatly and then placing it on the floor next to her. “We still need to find those decorations. I can feel my allergies acting up.”

“Fine, but 'm gonna take this entire box with us.” Billie closes and kicks the box towards the attic exit, it skids on the dusty floor and then plunges down from the ladder down to the hallway. “Whoops!”

Ramona gasps, “You gotta watch your strength, you might break somethin’!”

Billie winces when she hears your familiar footsteps frantically walking up the stairs. You don't sound mad, probably concerned about them. Your eldest crawls towards the hole in the ceiling to look down apologetically at you. Mona shuffles on her knees, following behind her sister.

“We're okay!” They both yell the second you reach the last step.

You visibly relax, shoulders sagging as you see them both fine atop the attic. “I thought you two fell!” You hold onto your chest, “They're alright, Hobs!” You yell down to inform him.

“Told you! Spider senses don't lie, love!” His muffled voice echoes up the house.

Crossing the small distance, you look at the crumpled box that's spilling old clothes. “I remember these!” You chuckle, bending at the waist to take a familiar white shirt splattered with graffiti designs. “I made these! Too bad it doesn't fit your dad anymore.”

“I told you it was dad's!” Mona nudges her sister by her shoulder.

Billie nudges back, pushing Mona playfully. “But it fits us, mum! Can we keep it? We'll share, promise!” Billie acts cute, fluttering her lashes towards you with a sweet smile.

Mona huffs, hand pressed on her sister's cheek to push her away as she continues to jab her. “Yeah, can we?”

“Stop pushing, you'll actually fall this time.” You chuckle, they remind you of Hobie and Ned when they were younger, always pushing each other but more than ready to pull the other back up. “Are you sure? They're not too old school?”

“Nah!” They simultaneously say.

“Old school is actually in these days, mum!”

“Oh I know, sweetheart, my design assistant keeps yammering about trends just going around in circles.”

They smile at you, “you should hire us instead then!” Billie half teases.

You get a light bulb idea, “Tell you what, dad and I are going to pick up your brother from band practice. When we come back— and if the house looks ready for the Halloween party tomorrow then I'll bring you both to work next Friday, deal?”

They shriek excitedly. You hear Hobie downstairs copy their high pitched shrieks, making their guffaw ring around the house. “Only if the house looks nice.” You laugh at their antics, “just be careful with the streamers, okay? And leave the string lights to us.” Walking closer to the ladder, you look up at them sweetly. “I know you're not used to your abilities just yet, so be extra careful with each other, okay?”

“Don't worry, mum, I've got Mon-mon.” Billie mocks salutes.

“And I've got Billie. I'll catch her when she falls.”

“Oi! That was one time!”

Your phone rings in your pocket, the ringtone is one of Hobie's old songs. “Good,” leaning up, tip toeing, you pat each of their cheeks. “That's your brother, love you both so much.”

“Love you too, mummy.” Mona replies, sending you a flying kiss that she hasn't shaked away since she was five. You wouldn't have it any other way.

“Love you, mum!” Billie responds more enthusiastically, waving at you while you climb down the ladder.

“No love for me?!” Hobie, still downstairs and getting the keys based on the soft jingle of metal, yells back at the three of you.

“Love you, dad!” The twins yell back happily. You're glad that even though they're already fifteen, they're not embarrassed to say the three words back to you and Hobie.

“Love you, gremlins!” Hobie screams back, this time much clearer as he stands on the bottom of the staircase while waiting for you. “C’mon, love, let's get ice cream without them.” He teases.

You giggle, hand reaching towards Hobie as you both run away. A resounding sound of disapproval rings out while you and Hobie run off towards the garage.

“I want rocky road!” Billie calls back as she hears the engine start. “What do you want, Mo—” when she turns towards her twin, she finds her spot empty. “Hey!”

“What? ‘m doin' my task. Go look in the other corner.”

“Fine, don't blame me if they don't get your coconut ice cream, yuck by the way.” Billie heads off towards a red bag, unzipping it to find old rolls of fabric. “No Halloween stuff here.”

“Coconut ice cream is refreshing.” Mona explains while she rummages through a box full of multicoloured wires. The whole box got her intrigued, why would her parents keep this junk if it's not important?

“Ooh more clothes! Jackpot!”

Something shiny catches Mona's eyes, pushing through mountains of wires to get to the bottom of the chest, she finds something circular and metallic at the end. “What's this?”

Billie looks over her shoulder while she holds up a pair of plaid pants. “I don't know but that doesn't look Halloweeney.”

Mona takes it out of the chest, thumbs rubbing along the front, the dust has settled on the glass, caking it with grey itchy dust. “Looks like a watch.”

“Oh shit what if it's one of those vintage watches that's actually worth thousands of pounds?”

Ramona cleans the watch face with her jumper sleeve. Billie tilts her head, curious at why her sister is so intrigued by an old watch when she can't even get her attention whenever they watch a movie.

“I've never seen dad wear a proper watch, not even at uncle Ned’s weddin’.”

Mona's breath hitches in her throat, remembering her father's stories during his time at the spider society. “I don't think it's a regular watch, Bee.” Her eyes widen at how advanced it looks technology wise, with a touch of Hobie's personal style.

“Shit is it a million dollar watch?!” Her twin scooches closer, knees dragging along the floorboards unbothered that it's probably scratching her precious corduroy.

Mona turns her head towards Billie, “I think it's—!” Before she could finish her sentence, a bright light encapsulates them both. Plunging the twins into a kaleidoscope of colours.

—

“Ramona! I don't want to die!” Billie grabs hold of her sister while they're plummeting down in a multicoloured tunnel of lights and sounds that echo in their ears like a wind turbine.

“We're not gonna die!” Mona hugs her twin tighter, eyes shut closed to keep out the bright lights. “Mum and dad's gonna kill us if we die!”

“Fuck!” Billie shields Mona's head, bracing for impact once she spots the end of the colourful tunnel.

With roll and a groan, they land on a sea of grass. Mona lifts her head up from the tall grass, checking and patting herself if all her fingers and face are still intact.

“Billie!”

A hand raises from the bushes. “‘ere!”

“Oh thank fuck.” Standing up, Mona scans her surroundings. It looks like their neighborhood, except there's fewer houses in place, and there's a large oak tree standing in the middle of where their house is supposed to be. “What?”

Billie spits out a piece of grass stuck on her lip gloss. “What, what?” While she picks out blades of grass from her sister's braids.

Mona walks over to the metal fence where the picket fence that she remembers painting with her family was supposed to be. Her eyes roam all over the neighbour’s house. She's sure an older lady and her husband live there, not a middle aged couple with three kids running around the porch. The couple look spry while they're both tending to their bountiful garden.

“What the fuck?” Mona curses under her breath while Billie takes out her phone from her pocket to check. To her surprise, the device doesn't even open no matter how many times she taps it.

Billie turns her attention towards what's causing her sister to curse, brows creasing together at the sight in front of her. “Mon, tell me what's happening and why old Eunice looks gorgeous in that sweater vest.”

“I don't think we're in the same universe anymore.” Mona grips the metal fence tightly, the sound gathering the attention of the children, who awfully look like the people she sees visit the house every holiday. “Psst!”

All three children glance towards them, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Mon, don't do that, you look like a bloody creep.”

“It's the only way I can get their attention!”

“Hello, excuse me, do you two need help?” Surprisingly, a much younger Eunice walks over to them. She roams her brown eyes all over the twins, concern and confusion flitting over her expression.

“Yeah, uh…” Ramona realizes that she can't just ask what year it is, or even ask what universe they're in. So she plays it casually. “Who's the top artist this year?”

“Excuse me?”

Billie sighs and closes her eyes from the sheer embarrassment. “We're from the local radio conductin’ a survey and we'd love to hear what you think of the… top artist this year.” She tries her best.

Mona nods enthusiastically, chuckling nervously, “what she said.”

“Oh I love nirvana and Mariah Carey!”

Mona gasps, “late 90s!”

“What?”

Billie grabs her sister by her arm. “Yes, thank you for answering our survey! Bye!” She yanks her away, dragging her towards the street and out of the suburban area.

“Wait, aren't surveys supposed to be more than one question?!” Eunice yells back, “I want to tell you how much I love ‘Always be my baby!’”

“Walk faster.” Billie walks briskly with Mona right next to her. “‘Top artist?’ Really, Mon?”

“Well it's either that or ask how Diana is!” She huffs, keeping up with her sister's strides. “Well at least now we know what year we're in!”

“Yeah, what if we're in a different dimension? Remember what dad taught us?”

“I know! Fuck!”

Billie stops mid stride, holding out her arm to stop Mona from walking. “Wait, where's the watch.”

Mona's eyes widen like saucer plates, “oh shit!” Patting her pockets frantically, she feels the circular shape of it in her jean pocket and she sighs in relief. “It's ‘ere.”

“I can't fucking believe dad's old watch still works.”

“Not anymore.” Mona winces at the cracked screen with the glitching numbers that read ‘138’

Billie sucks in her teeth. “At least now we know we're in the same dimension. But we're not in Kansas anymore.” She says with a transatlantic accent. Mona side eyes her with her nose scrunched up. “What? I always wanted to say that.”

Mona huffs, “Yeah, we time traveled.” She rubs her eyes with the heel of her palms. Groaning and body deflating. “I didn't even know it could do that.”

Meanwhile, Billie walks up and down the street with her hands buried in her hair. “Fuck, what if Miguel comes after us?”

“I think that's better, at least he can take us home.” Mona sits down on the curb, pocketing the watch for safe keeping while she thinks of a solution. What would you think when you get home to an empty house? Would their dad figure out where they are?

“Uh no, I don't want that vampire runnin’ after us!” Billie continues to pace around, anxiety pooling in the bottom of her stomach. “They're gonna go bonkers when they find out we're missin’”

“He's cool now, I think.”

“How are you so calm?!” Billie shakes her sister's shoulders.

“‘m not! ‘m freakin’ the fuck out, Bee!” She yells, cracking under the pressure, lips wobbling. “What if we can't go home because of my curious arse?!”

“Oi! Not your fault, alright?” Her eyes grow soft despite the tears brimming. “You were just lookin' at it, not your fault that it went haywire, ‘kay?”

Mona nods slowly, rubbing her clammy palms on her leg. “Okay, I'll get us home, bee, I promise.”

“I know, Mon, I'll help.” She gently punches her bicep playfully.

Mona scoffs with a smile, “you better.”

Billie chuckles, reminiscent of their dad's smile. “I think I've got an idea.” She sits down next to her sister on the curb. “Remember that one old movie we watched with mum and dad?”

“The time traveling one?”

“No, Tarzan.” She answers back sarcastically. “Of course the time traveling one, ‘back to the future.’

“Okay, so what about it?”

“We can't tell people we're from the future. But at the same time we can't fix that watch ourselves.” Billie points at where the watch is stored.

“What if I can? You don't know that.” Mona scoffs.

“Just lower your damn ego for a minute, Tony Stark.” Billie huffs, “my idea is that we go to someone who can actually fix it.”

“Well we obviously can't go to dad. You know what happened to the movie when the kid met his mum.” Mona shivers from the thought.

“Ew, I know, also I do not want to see dad and mum makin’ kissy faces at each other.” It's Billie's turn to shiver.

“So the second smartest person we know who can handle tech?” Mona understands what her twin meant.

“You read my mind, we're goin' to go to uncle Ned's—”

“Aunt Riri—!” They manage to say simultaneously. Sometimes twin teleplay fails.

“Shit, your idea is better actually.” Billie agrees.

Mona throws her head back, groaning at the realization. “Yeah, but if I remember correctly, she hasn't met mum and dad yet during the 90s. They met sometime during 2003, I remember because That's when Aunty moved ‘ere for her doctorate.”

“Fuck!” Billie stands up abruptly. “So uncle Ned then? Since Aunt Riri is still in the US. Unless we get on a bloody plane and manage to convince her.”

Mona stands up, shrugging. “We have no choice, it's either him or dad. Besides, he helped dad make his gadgets. We'd be in good hands.”

“Yeah, if he knows us! He doesn't know us, remember? He might not help a couple of strangers.” Billie follows Ramona towards the city. She can see the light from where she's standing. The sun shines down on them on a rare sunny day in London, making the back of their necks sweat and agitating them even more.

“We can convince him, if that doesn't work we'll tell him we're aliens. He's obsessed with ‘em, remember?”

“This is why you have the higher grades, Mon.”

“I don't know if that's sarcasm or not.”

Billie giggles, hand placed in her pockets. “Guess.”

“Arse.” Mona's lips curls into a smile, while Billie loops her arm around her sister's. “By this time, Uncle Ned has already moved to Richmond so we'll take a bus to his place.” They walk into the busy city with its buzzing sounds and lights flashing all over. Passing by a graffiti, Mona holds Billie's hand to reassure herself that she's not alone in the strange yet familiar city.

“Thank god for your ironclad memory. I don't even remember what we ate last night.” Billie nudges Mona with her shoulder.

“It was lasagna—” Mona stops halfway, eyes glued on someone sitting on the bus stop. She has Billie’s lips and face shape. And with Mona's eyes and smile. “Mum?”

Billie follows her line of sight, palms suddenly clammy at the sight of a younger you. “Holy fuck.” You look amazing in your high heeled boots, and blouse that Billie herself saw while rummaging through the boxes back home. You're unmistakably you. “What are we gonna do?”

“We just walk away— oh fuck, she's cryin’” Sure enough, your casual façade fades into sadness. You hold your face in your hands, shoulders shaking and tears seeping through your fingers. “What the fuck happened?” Their heart aches for you.

“I don't know, but that's our mum, c’mon.” They don't hesitate to walk towards you. Damn all the time traveling rules they got from movies, you're their mum and they can't bear it when you cry.

Their shoes click against the pavement, eyes trained on your shivering form. “H–hi,” Billie starts with trepidation. “Are you okay?” She tilts her head, making sure to give you enough space so as to not frighten you.

You swallow thickly, hands immediately rubbing along your eyes to wipe away the tears. But your red eyes stay despite your gentle smile. “Hello, sorry, am I blocking the bench?” You say with a broken tone, acting fine while you gather your bag.

“No, mu—” Mona's lips wobble at the sight of your tear stained cheeks. “No, you're not blockin’ the way. We're askin' if you're okay.”

You nod your head with hesitation. “Yeah, I'm okay, sorry to bother you.”

“I don't think you're okay.” Billie says bluntly. “Sorry, that was a bit rude. ‘m—” she pauses, thinking of another name so that she doesn't accidentally change her actual name in the present. “Milly, that's my name. My sister…Eunice and I were just a bit worried ‘bout you.”

Mona winces at the name her twin chose for her. “Yep,” she says, side eyeing her sister. “Are you hurt?”

You chuckle wetly, “does being heart broken count?”

What the fuck did dad do? Both Billie and Mona think at the same time. They look at each other knowingly.

Mona sits next to you while Billie leans on the bus stop. “You can tell us.”

“I'm sorry but I don't like bothering strangers with my sad loner story.”

“Nah, bother us.” Billie smiles gently at you.

You manage to crack a smile. “You both remind me of him actually. You have that confident nonchalance that he also has.”

Oh fuck. Billie and Mona glance at each other knowingly. They should tone down the Hobie–ness they got from their dad or else you'll suspect something is amiss.

“Uh do you guys really want to? My bus won't be here for…” you check your watch. “ten minutes. And you two must have plans tonight.”

“Nope, no plans!” Mona says nervously. “No parties no nothin'.” Billie narrows her eyes towards her sister.

“Ah same, I was just about to go to my friend's house to ask for advice since he knows him as much as I do.”

Mona flits her eyes towards Billie, silently communicating with her. She's going to uncle Ned's. Well that complicates things.

“Or you could ask us for advice instead. No bias ‘ere since we don't know both parties. Just calculated thoughts.” Billie thinks quickly.

“You sure? I don't want to keep you guys away. Your parents might get worried if you two don't come home on time.”

How ironic, Ramona thinks. “We're actually on…an errand. So they don't expect us until later.” She chuckles wryly, hoping that her lie is convincing. “What's botherin’ you?”

You sniff, tears already brimming in your eyes. “I—” inhaling, you look at their concerned faces, finding that their empathy is genuine from their expressions. For some reason, you feel relaxed in their presence. “I'm in love with my best friend. And long story short, I thought he was too. He was saying such sweet words that no friend would say to another friend and I…I thought he fancied me back.”

Billie looks away briefly, refusing to stare at your brokenhearted face. Ramona wants to hold your trembling hand, but she takes her hand back in case her touch is unwanted. You gaze at Mona softly, eyes glancing briefly at her hand before staring at the pavement.

“I h–heard someone at his place.” You stare at your shoes, hands fisting your trousers when you remember her voice ringing out from inside his houseboat. “I know I don't have a right to be jealous or feel like I'm being cheated on, but I can't shake the feeling that he wasn't genuine. That our relationship was just that, a friendship. A one sided love.” Wiping away your tears with your sleeve, you mindlessly play with your cherry earrings, helping yourself calm down. “Especially after what he said yesterday, I just thought,” you shake your head. “That he loved me back. It's stupid, isn't it?”

A looming migraine tugs at your head, you feel like there's a woodpecker poking a hole in the middle of your head, right in between your brows. You push that spot with the heel of your palm, one eye closed to shield yourself from the sun beaming at your right.

You inhale sharply. “And I have this project that could determine my future. And I'm so afraid of failing it just because I decided to ruin my friendship with him.” You gather all your remaining strength, inhaling and exhaling to suppress the headache. Surprisingly, Mona shifts to your side to shield you from the glare of the sun. You look at them, their eyes and soft smiles reminding you of him. “I love him beyond belief. That's a crazy fucking thought.”

Both girls don't remember this part of your love story whenever you or Hobie recall how you two got together after being friends for more than ten years. Billie swallows down her nerves, she leaves the side of the bus stop to crouch down in front of you, looking directly at your tearful eyes.

“‘m sorry that happened to you. And that's not a mad thought.” Mona gently grasps the back of your hand, kneading your palm with her thumb just like how you always did for them back in the present. “You're under a lot of stress, everythin’ just feels like it's all coming down on you, yeah?” You nod, “but it's not, the world's not crumbling down on you.”

“We don't have the right words to help you but—” Billie continues, reaching for her sister's hand that's wrapped around your own. She holds onto you and Mona with a tender touch. “We do know one thing, you'll be okay.”

Mona nods, smiling sweetly at you. “We know you'll be okay.”

You chuckle through the tears, frown replaced with a smile. “Thank you for hearing me out. I think I just needed to vent. I'm sorry that you had to hear all of that.” You joke. “I feel lighter,” squeezing their hands, you grin wider as a tear slides down your cheek. “I feel better, thank you. For a bunch of kids, you two seem to know more than I do.”

“Mum and dad taught us well.” Billie almost chokes on her words when a lump in her throat appears. She wants to go home and see her family.

The bus arrives, and the door opens with a hiss. You pat each of their hands before letting go. “I think I'll go back to my dorm, it's better to finish my project than travel an hour away and bother my friend.”

“Again, you're not a bother.” Mona stands up from her seat, she follows Billie, who's already in the bus’s doorway. “We're glad to lend you an ear.”

“Tell your bloke that he's bein’ a prick, yeah?” Billie jokes, making Mona slap her arm.

You gather your things, already walking away. “I think I will. I'll see you two around. Oh, and uh, nice pants. I have something similar to it, you have a good fashion sense.”

Both girls beam, looking down at their matching corduroys but in different shades. Mona waves at you, almost throwing you a flying kiss, good thing she stopped herself before she blew it.

Meanwhile, Billie waves more enthusiastically even with the tears still clinging to her lashes. “Thanks! It was our mum’s!” As the doors close and they watch your retreating form smile and wave at them goodbye, they feel closer to you than ever.

—

Mona and Billie finally arrive at their uncle Ned's place. It's a simple flat with a bike parked up front, and a flower bed that's been abandoned judging by the dead leaves clinging to the pots.

“I think it's this one. I remember the whole band took a picture in front of it before uncle Ned moved away.” Mona walks up the steps, hand reaching up the door to knock. She pauses, suddenly shy at the thought of talking in front of someone who doesn't know them like they know him.

“You want me to do the talkin’?” Billie asks wholeheartedly without malice or a condescending tone. “I'll try my best not to scare him. Not like the time we sold cookies.”

Her sister nods, “okay, just don't tell him that…” she leans in closer to whisper. “We're from the future.”

Billie chuckles, mirroring her sister. “I won't.” Leaning back, she clears her throat. “Trust me I can handle it.” Holding out her fist, she knocks on the door with a rhythm that both girls made up to recognize each other through the door.

“Hold on!” Someone's muffled yells call at them. “just a minute, Y/N!”

“Oh, he's expectin’ mum.” Billie says, “should I tell him that we ran into her?”

Mona whips her head towards her twin. “I–I don't—”

The door swings open, and out comes Ned in a pink fluffy bathrobe with a toothbrush still in his mouth. “Can I help you?” He raises a brow, looking at their faces like he's trying to place where he last saw them.

“Ned Leeds?”

“Yeah? If you're selling stuff, I don't want it.” He starts to close the door but Billie stops it from closing with her boot in the doorway. Thank goodness for steel toed boots. “I already paid the down payment, now leave me alone.”

“We're not ‘ere for… whatever that is. We need your help.” With Billie's words, Ned opens the door again just a smidge.

“Oh, you lost? I can call your parents for you.”

“That's the thing though, we heard that you're good with tech?” Billie looks at her sister, she nods quietly in place. “And we're looking for someone who can fix our watch.”

Ned's face morphs into annoyance, thinking it's one of those modus operandi for scams. “Call a horologist.” He moves to close the door again before shoving Billie's foot out of the doorway with his fluffy slippers.

“Wait!” Mona shouts, hands grasping the door to keep it open. Billie's eyes widened, afraid for her sister's fingers. “We're aliens!”

A silence hangs in the air for a second while Ned glances at them with an unreadable expression. Then, he laughs amusingly. Both girls look at each other desperately.

“You? The both of you are aliens?” He asks sarcastically.

Billie sucks in her teeth, pushing the door further to open it more, still very careful of her strength lest she doesn't end up meeting uncle Ned in the future. “You sleepwalk at night, and when you do, you always prepare a sandwich in the kitchen, that's why you have that scar on your palm from that one time you used a knife.”

Mona gasps then tamps down a giggle when she realizes what her twin is doing. She remembers when their dad told them that story while the rest of the band were blackout drunk in their old backyard. He had to dodge the knife just to take it from Ned while you were afraid that it would nick either of them.

Their uncle flicks his eyes at his palm, sure enough the scar stares back at him. “How'd you know that? Only two people know about that—”

“You didn't know how to ride a bike until you were sixteen.” Billie continues, slowly walking inside the flat. Mona follows closely, hands placed on her hips to intimidate their poor uncle. He backs down with a terrified expression. “Your friends doesn't know that you're datin’ again. And that you're highly allergic to limes.” Ned looks pale, looking like he's about to faint on the spot. For the cherry on top, Billie shows her ‘hightech’ phone, causing Ned to blink at what the brick shaped object is.

“And peanuts!” Mona adds, and Billie gives her an approved nod. Ned walks backwards into a wall, toothbrush falling from his agape mouth.

“Holy shit,” His chest heaves, wide eyes staring at their faces, waiting for it to turn into bug eyed green creatures from mars. “I'm gonna call the cops now.”

Billie side steps and blocks the only phone in the room, “nuh uh, Ned Leeds. Mon, show him.”

“Oh god I don't want to see your true forms!” He cowers back into a corner.

Mona takes the watch from her pocket, practically shoving it in his face. He jumps away, shoulders shaking. “Sorry, we really just need your help in fixin’ this so we can go home.”

“Y–you’re not gonna hurt me? Or tell me how I die?”

“D’you want us to tell you?” Billie is clearly having too much fun with him.

“...no.” Ned sniffs, trying to calm his nerves while taking a look at the cracked watch. His expression shifts, eyes blinking at the tech. “This looks futuristic.”

“Can you fix it, unc—” Billie clears her throat, “Ned Leeds.”

He furrows his brow at her, “I think so, it might take some time though.”

Both girls look at eachother, they sigh, anxiety rolling around in the pit of their stomach. “Please fix it as fast as you can. Our—” Mona spares a glance at her sister, finding that she has the same expression as her. “Parents are looking for us, they're worried. And we miss our brother too. So please, fix it.”

Ned nods, staring at them empathetically even after what transpired. “So your planet needs you then?”

“...sure.” Billie says with a lopsided smile. “Can we trust you, mortal?” Mona hides the roll of her eyes by closing her eyes.

“Absolutely. If you spare me and my planet.” They don't know whether he's playing them too or he genuinely thinks that they're aliens.

“Better yet,” Mona adds, “you get to learn about our technology while you're at it. Win/win.” Yeah, that definitely won't change anything in the future. Or so she hopes.

“Deal!” Ned walks towards his dining table, already getting all his tools out from his pile of boxes. “Let's get started then. But before that, you guys don't have ray guns right?”

The twins have a long day ahead of them.

—

The sun was beginning to set when Mona woke Billie up from her nap on Ned's couch which was surprisingly comfortable despite it still covered in plastic. After a few hours trying to crack the watch open, Ned has finally figured out what's wrong with it. The bad news is that he needs parts, lots of it, to get it up and running the sooner the better. The good news is that he knows where to get most of the parts, the other bad news is that it's three hours away from his flat. So the three of them decided to split off, the girls will be going back to London to get the new set of lens and power supply from a shop. While Ned drives alone to get the rest. He even left them a copy of his flat keys so that they got somewhere to stay after shopping.

Billie yawns, joints cracking as she stretches her arms up. “Uncle Ned's too trustin’ of people, no wonder he fell for that scam a few years ago.” She jingles the set of keys around her finger, twirling the carabiner around.

They walk on the sidewalk that faces a preppy looking university. A few people walk about, some frantically run inside the campus. Billie guessed they might be late to class, or just needed to take a dump. Her mind wanders off as Mona sighs next to her with the plastic bag of spare parts clanging against her leg.

“I think he's just awfully nice, Bee. It's either that or he knows who we are.” She places her cheek atop her sister's bicep, tired bones creaking as they walk slowly. She wonders if you and Hobie got home already, and if you're freaking out once you see the empty house.

“Literally impossible, how would he know?”

“His best mates are mum and dad, he has known them since they were young. And he's smart, he might've figured it all out—”

“Holy fuck is that dad?!” Billie yells out of nowhere, startling her sister. “Christ, he looks awful.”

Mona follows her gaze, stopping to see a tall disheveled man standing next to his bike at the campus parking lot. His hair and leather jacket stands out amidst the crowd, and his demeanor screams lovelorn. His shoulders slump, hands moving about like he's about to take a leap of fate. When Mona follows what he's looking at, she's not surprised that he's staring at you.

“And mummy too.”

“What–?” Billie peeks behind a car, gasping when she sees you talking to a friend in front of your campus building. “Talk about drama.”

“Billie, I think we're in trouble if we don't help them get back together.”

“What do you mean? I think we already helped by talkin’ to mum.” Mona starts to walk towards the university entrance, eyes trained on the younger version of their dad.

“Yeah, but not dad.” They stop right next to a parked car, hiding behind it to watch whether or not Hobie would walk towards you. Or do something, anything to keep the peace between the two of you. “Look at him, I've never seen him this nervous since our brother was born.”

“Correction, I've seen him this nervous during our recital.” Mona just stares at her with a flat look. “What? ‘m just copyin’ you.” She teases with a chuckle. “You said it yourself, we can't talk to dad.”

“Yeah, ‘bout us bein’ his kids, but that doesn't include us givin’ him advice.”

“What are we even goin' to tell him? He's gonna eat us whole, Mon, look at him!” Both girls turn their attention towards Hobie. “Ew, he's all sweaty—okay, not that but, he looks like he's gonna bully us.”

“This is the exact same time he got bit by the spider. Give him some slack, Bee.” Mona rolls her eyes, in her peripheral vision, she sees you walk towards your dorm building with a couple of classmates. “Besides, he's not gonna bully us.” She takes the opportunity to cross the distance towards Hobie while you're occupied with your friends in the lobby.

“Yeah, but remember uncle Ned tellin' us that he wore a cardigan with loafers one time and dad never let him hear the end of it?”

“Yeah, but mum wears it all the time and he says that it looks cute on her!” They walk briskly when Hobie gets on his bike. “Not in those words, ‘fit’ is the word he used, but he doesn't bully people!”

“That was mum! Not us who are a couple of almost identical strangers—” Billie tries to grab Mona by her shoulder but she's faster than her, dodging her hand and standing in front of their dad's motorcycle with an intense look.

Mona inhales deeply, nose flaring up, index pointing at their dad. When she opens her mouth, no words come out.

Hobie blinks at them, eyebrows furrowed with a questioning look. “Is there somethin' on my face?”

“Nothin’! My sister ‘ere thought you're somebody else.” Billie tries to save face, pulling Mona out of the way but she stands firm. “Let's go, Mon.”

“You!” Mona starts tentatively, Billie groans, hiding her face with her hands from the second hand embarrassment. “I– you better apologize to mu— Y/N! Yeah, apologize t–to her.” She puts her hands on her hips, trying to act intimidating. Billie curses under her breath.

“You’re friends with Y/N?” Hobie leans atop the handlebars of his bike, confused about the whole ordeal. “I don't remember her talkin' ‘bout a couple of teenagers bein’ friends with her. Didn't your parents teach you manners?”

Mona swallows thickly, looking back towards Billie for help. Her twin sighs, stepping forward to fix the situation. “Well,” she chuckles nervously, his pointed stare reminds her of his look whenever they break curfew. “We're—” she's at a loss for words when Hobie raises a brow at her. Her palms are suddenly clammy. “Just apologize to her please.”

Hobie chuckles lightly, hands rubbing along his face tiredly. “That's what ‘m tryin’ to do, mate.”

The girls glance at each other briefly, sensing their father's frustration and sorrow behind his words.

“I don't know where to start, she wouldn't answer my calls, it was a misunderstandin’, I—” He sniffs, eyes staring off in the direction of where you are. “Is she alright, at least? She eatin’, sleepin’?”

Mona purses her lips, “we don't know but she misses you.”

Hobie's eyes shines in the orange afternoon glow. “Yeah, same over ‘ere.” He taps his brake mindlessly with his thumb, a nervous tick of his that the girls are familiar with. “Don't worry, I'll talk to her. I think she just needs some time away from me.” He chuckles without humour. “Ten years with me will do that to you.”

They both shake their heads. “We don't think so,” their hearts break for their dad. In the present they know how much he loves you, but now they know that he loves you just as much as in the past. “Just please talk to her.”

“And remember she has that fashion show.” Billie adds, frowning as she fights the tears in her eyes. If they fail, they wouldn't be born, she wouldn't have met her sister. She wouldn't have met their younger brother no matter how annoying he can be sometimes. “Don't make her wait or she might not come back for you.”

She recalls the story that she knows like the back of her hand. Where you come back to London after years of being apart, only connected with him through letters and late night phone calls. If he doesn't cross the line that he's been tethering over for the past ten years, or if you don't take that leap of fate you always wanted to, their family wouldn't exist. Their love would cease to exist.

Hobie swallows down his nerves. “I'll keep tryin', and I remember her show. I'll be there.” With a nod, he puts on his helmet.

Both girls back away. “And we'll make sure that she gives you the outfit.”

Billie smiles, “we think you'll like it.”

Hobie grins under the helmet, eyes staring briefly at you, as if saying goodbye for now. “If she made it, I already like it.” He revs his engine, “thanks, uh?”

“Milly and Eunice!” Billy says with her whole chest while Mona side glances at her with a scrunched up look.

“Milly,” he repeats, smiling, “wait, have I seen you two before?”

The twins widen their eyes, quickly walking away before he could ask any questions. “Maybe at a gallery or a concert? Anyway, bye, da— Hobie!”

As they walk away with their heads down, they hear Hobie drive away from behind with more questions swimming in his mind. Sighing, they see themselves in front of your dorm building. Before they could leave, the door opens and your head peeks over the crack.

Your eyes are clearly brimming with tears, nose relentlessly sniffing. “That was him.”

“Oh, mu— Y/N.” Mona opens the door, and without thinking, she hugs you. To both of their surprise, you hug back. Billie joins in after the shock, patting your back gently as you cry on Mona's shoulder.

—

“Where'd you guys learn how to stitch? You're both pretty good at it.” You say while you put the last safety pins on the red blazer you made.

The girls found themselves in your dorm with snacks and drinks around them. You all sit on the floor in a circle while they help you put the finishing touches on your project. Aka, what their dad will wear on the runway. After you cried buckets full of tears in front of them, you insisted that you pay for their dinner as compensation for making them hear all your woes. Which they declined, instead they asked if they could lighten the load for you by helping with your project which was probably fifty percent of your problems. So, with slight reluctance, you ordered food to go and the three of you clicked together like you've known eachother since childhood. Well, that was the case for the girls.

“Our mum did. Dad helped too.” Mona smiles, hands pausing from the lace she's stitching together.

“They sound like cool parents then.” You smile back sweetly, “sewing is a necessary skill.”

“Oh we know.” Billie says, referring to all the times you had to sew Hobie's wounds close even before they were born. Mona nudges her, giving her a ‘shut up’ look.

You smile gently at them, and they miss you dearly from that smile. The second they get home they're gonna hug you immediately. And maybe their dad too after they glare at him for a minute.

“You two are twins right?” You laugh awkwardly, “I didn't want to ask back at the bus stop, it might've been too obvious.”

“Yep, unfortunately I didn't absorb her in the womb.” Billie jokes while she paints the white t-shirt with a graffiti style design.

“Oi!” Mona scolds her sister but her grin betrays her. “You stole my joke.”

Giggling, you lay the blazer down flatly to double check your stitches. “I've always wanted a twin you know, it's like having a forever best friend. You two get along so well.”

“I think you already have a forever best friend.” Billie says softly.

You mirror her smile, hands playing with your cherry earrings. “Yeah, I guess I do have one already.” You look like you're in deep thought. “I saw you two talking to Hobie, how'd you know the guy I was talking about was him?”

“Uh,” Mona sucks in her teeth. “He seems like your type? I mean judging from how you talked about him.” She sounds unsure.

“Was I that obvious?” Thankfully, you buy it. They sigh in relief. “What did you three talk about? If you don't mind me asking.”

“We don't mind.” Billie leans back against your bed, grabbing her soda cup to sip while you wait for them to speak about the conversation they had. “We just talked ‘bout you, nothin' bad don't worry. We just told him to apologize, and he asked about you actually.”

Your eyes light up before faltering, “he did?”

“Yeah, he looked apologetic. He says he's gonna keep tryin' to talk to you, but he also says he'll give you some time for a bit.” Mona continues for her sister. “He was askin' if you were alright, if you were sleepin’ and eatin' okay.”

Your cheeks heat up while your eyes brim with tears again. The girls can tell that you missed him a lot. “If you see him again, can you tell him that I'm trying too? And that he's right, I think I need a bit of time to gather my complicated thoughts.”

“You can say it yourself durin’ the show.” Billie's smile grows into a smirk, knowing what happens during the said fashion show. “He said he'll be there.”

The perks of having enhanced abilities is feeling what people's emotions are like. Kind of like their spidey senses telling them if the person in front of them is angry enough to attack or when exactly to comfort someone. But this time it's neither of those things, they sense that your heart is thudding loudly against your ribcage, and that your hands are suddenly sweaty, and that your cheeks are practically on fire from the simple words, complete with butterflies flying in your stomach.

They felt the same thing with Hobie while talking to him. They chalked the quick heartbeat and sweaty palms were from the new powers that are still taking hold of him. But the butterflies and how he tenderly looked at you do not lie. He's unquestionably, unequivocally in love with you just like how you're absolutely lovestruck by your best friend.

Both girls think that there's no danger of them fading away into nothingness knowing that you two won't let go of your feelings for the other. All they have to do now is to help you finish your project and wait for Ned to complete their watch. For now, they'll keep you company in your cramped dorm that they've heard a lot of stories about during their childhood.

“Now let's finish this masterpiece for the love of your life, hm?”

—

You try to sneak out of your dorm room at the crack of dawn. The three of you chatted until Billie fell asleep on your desk, to which Mona apologized on her behalf. She was about to wake her up but you stopped them, telling them that it's alright for them to stay the night if they called their parents beforehand, and that they'd stay quiet so that your R.A wouldn't kick them out. You didn't want them commuting this late at night. You even considered calling Yuri to borrow her car and drive them back home, which the girls refused since if they see another person they care about in the present here, they would've balled their eyes out.

Mona, with her quick thinking, dialed a ‘fake’ number in your landline, your number in the present. She imagined that she was talking to you even though you're technically in the same room with her. She even asked how her dad and brother were in the so-called conversation. She missed her family dearly. Billie heard it all while she was half asleep, her head hidden on her arms cushioning her head, eyes starting to blur as she remembered your promise to them before they fell back in time.

As the girls slept in your bunk, you tiptoe over all the mess the three of you made. Scraps of fabric lay about, various colours of thread roll around the floor as you quietly pack the finished outfit in a box. With one last look at the leather vest you painstakingly made, you shut the box closed, tied it with a ribbon and wrote your message on the back of a starbucks reward card.

You almost made it out without waking either one of them, but the creaking door woke both of them up with a start. Ramona thinks that it's their spidey senses rousing them from their sleep.

“Where are you goin'?” Mona blearily asks, one eye cracked open.

“Sorry,” you wince, “I was just dropping this off at Hobie's place. Go back to sleep, I'll get breakfast for you two as thanks for helping.”

“Nah, we're comin' with.” Billie, forgetting that she's on the top bunk, falls face first.

“Oh fuck!” You panic, walking quickly towards her while Mona helps her sister up. Billie's giggles echo around the room, and you're definitely sure that the whole building heard the thud.

“‘m okay,” she yawns as Mona rolls her over to face the ceiling. “Jus’ fine, mon-mon.”

You and Mona both sigh in relief. “You sure? I can take you to the hospital? Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” You hold up a fist in front of her.

“None, that's your fist.” She swipes your hand away. Sitting up, she blinks all the sleep away while Mona tamps down her laughter. “You said breakfast right?”

—

After eating a breakfast sandwich, the three of you walk and chat as you cross the street towards Hobie's houseboat where it’s currently docked.

“Our brother's a little shit sometimes but we love him.” Billie sips at her cooling tea, letting the warming air flutter her lashes.

“Mm-hmm,” Mona is still chewing on the last bite of her sandwich. “He likes monster trucks and playin’ the drums. On his 7th birthday, our parents got him a drum kit with monster trucks painted on it.”

You giggle, box in hand that feels heavier with every step you get closer to Hobie's place. “He's definitely not gonna regret the monster truck design when he's older.” You say with sarcasm.

“I think he's already regrettin’ it, Y/N.” Billie isn't used to calling you by your first name, it feels wrong but it's inaccurate (and weird) if she calls you mum when she's only a few years younger than you. Technically.

You stop mid step, eyes roaming around the houseboat docked on the side. Both girls remember it from old photos of when they were still toddlers waddling around the houseboat. They remember that they used to love the place, no matter how small it was. To them, it was their castle. Their home on the water where they said their first word, and celebrated all their firsts.

“Oh,” Billie seems to have the same nostalgia brought sadness when she sees it floating. She grabs Mona by her arms, face placed on her bicep. “Is it just me or do I suddenly miss this boat?” She whispers.

Mona pats her back, “not just you, Bee, I forgot how much I missed this place.” She blinks and you're gone from her side. “Wait, where's—?”

Billie turns around, spotting you hiding behind a tree, and clutching the box to your chest. You lock eyes with her, shaking your head and pursing your lips.

The twins look at each other before walking towards you. “You okay?” Mona asks you, brows knitted together at your sniffing.

“I don't think I can face him.”

Billie understood your feelings. She has an idea as she peeks behind the tree to take a look at the houseboat.

“How ‘bout I do it for you then? I won't talk to him, I'll just leave the box at his doorstep, no problemo.”

“Can you? Please?” You're already handing the box with shaky hands.

Billie meets with Mona's eyes, her sister nods, agreeing that her idea was for the best.

“Right, don't worry I'll do it quickly he won't even hear me.”

“Be careful, the floor is very slippery when wet. I don't want you to fall in the water.” You say with a wobbly smile. “And thank you, Milly.”

“It's alright.” Billie walks briskly towards the boat, making sure not to make any sound with every footstep as you and Mona watch from behind the tree.

Billie leaps over the boat effortlessly, boots barely making a squeak. As she tiptoes over to the door, her senses perk up. The hair on the back of her neck stiffens, while her ears pick up the unmistakable sound of her dad's footsteps. With wide eyes, she makes her escape.

Mona senses it too, silently beckoning her twin over to their hiding spot before Hobie could open the door.

Just as Billie’s hand grasps Mona's, yanking her behind the tree, the door opens with a creak. And out comes Hobie stumbling on his feet as he skids to a stop, almost trampling over the box. His eyes roam around the area, flicking left and right for your familiar face. Finding no one, he sighs and picks up the box gingerly. Once he reads the note you left, his eyes soften, glimmering in the early morning light as he gets back inside with his shoulders slumped over.

You finally exhale when you heard the door closed. You didn't have the heart to peek behind the tree to look at him, lest you run to his arms and let out all the words you wanted to say.

“I'm sorry you had to do that for me.” You say and you see them whispering amongst each other. “Oh, do you two need to go?”

“Yeah,” Billie closes the distance, “we need to check on somethin’ but we'll be back to see your show.” She hugs you suddenly, and you hug back before she lets go of you, but not without her signature smile.

“That would be great, you get to see the clothes you helped make.” You pat her back kindly.

Mona waits on the side, you see her casually waiting and you immediately open your arms to her. “Thank you, Eunice.” Her lips wobble for a second, she embraces you before you could see her tears flow that she immediately wipes away.

“You're welcome. I know you'll kill it.”

“I hope so, before it kills me.” You joke as you hold her at arm's length. “I'll see you two at the show then?”

Holding each of their hands, you beam at them. And both girls have the urge to hug you again. They don't, knowing that they'll be home before they know it and embrace the real deal by then.

“We'll see you there.” They say simultaneously.

You giggle, “twin telepathy.” They wave goodbye to you, now knowing a different side of you.

—

Billie and Ramona got the right parts for Ned to fix the watch which needed an entire day for him to finish. Mona helped in assembling the parts while Billie made sure everything in the interdimensional watch worked by poking and prodding each individual screw and notches if it sparked or not. If there's sparks, the power is working normally in that section of the watch, if not, Ned and Mona had to rearrange the whole thing again.

Shadowing over their dad's work table while he assembles gadgets since before they could even talk actually helped. They can't wait to show all the work they've done and accomplished to their dad. Hobie would be proud of them persevering through all the shocks and mechanical hisses the old watch emanated.

Ned was terrified out of his mind though, there was real danger of him accidentally blowing up his new flat together with a couple of strangers that he has grown to know through the assembly of the ‘intergalactic’ gadget.

“Shit!” Mona wakes up from her nap in the guest bedroom that the twins have called their own for the past day or so. “Bee!” She pats her side, finding her sister snoring under the covers. Flinging the blanket, she shakes her awake. “Wake the fuck up! We're gonna miss mum's show!” With a kick to Billie's leg, she sits up with a startle.

“Oi! What the fuck!”

“Get up! We need to see them before we go!” Mona's already fixing her appearance in the mirror, and then she quickly folds the blanket and makes the bed while Billie groggily walks around the room to grab her shoes.

“Calm down, uncle Ned still hasn't finished the last bits. D’you want us explodin’ in the portal?”

“No, but I don't want to miss the show. It's the event that started it all, Bee.” Mona walks in front of Billie to fix her shirt for her. “Besides, we need to make sure it goes as planned. If dad doesn't show up and confesses backstage we're basically fucked.”

Billie yawns, “yeah, I forgot all ‘bout the space time continuum.” Her sister grabs her hand as she yanks the door open, almost breaking its hinges apart. “Careful!”

“Sorry!” As they leave, Ned does a double take.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asks, jittering from the fifth cup of coffee he had in the past twelve hours.

They stop in their tracks, “uh, we're gonna go see a fashion show?”

“Huh?” Ned makes a face, “without your watch?” He fishes the finished watch from his pocket, showing it off to them.

“No shit?” Billie guffaws, taking the watch gingerly in her palms like holding a precious stone.

“Yes shit.” Ned grins, “just finished it a few minutes ago. You're good to go.”

Mona laughs, wide eyed at her uncle. “You're bloody brilliant, Ned Leeds.”

He shrugs, “I should say the same thing to you two. I guess it runs in the blood eh?” The twins look at him with their mouths agape. “I would drive you but I can't see straight right now. There's three of you.” Laughing, he sits down on the couch with a groan, eyes growing heavy.

The girls smile kindly at him, Ramona puts on the watch on her wrist, its metal is shiny and new but Hobie's stickers and design still remains in the wrist strap. It blinks and boops on her wrist, more than ready to go home.

“Thank you, mortal.” Billie still plays with the bit, even making a peace sign at him while they leave.

“Yeah yeah,” Ned grins tiredly at them, waving them out of his house. “say hi to your mum and dad for me, yeah?”

They turn their heads towards him lightning quick. But by the time they stare at him with surprised faces, he's already snoring on the couch.

“We need to give him a really nice gift on his birthday when we get back.” Billie says with a laugh. Shutting the doors closed, they make their way to the bus stop with one destination in mind.

—

They make it in time. The venue was packed, and the runway was in full swing with various models strutting their stuff on the raised platform.

As they push through the front towards the backstage, they see another familiar face in the audience, your old professor that always sends them gifts during their birthdays without fail. The girls only met her one time during their fifth birthday, and they only heard stories about her from you but they feel a kinship with her ever since the old professor was in your life. Without her near impossible project, you and their dad wouldn't have gotten together and pushed through the boundaries to be together.

Billie waves at her with a grin, followed by Mona who even greets her politely. Mrs. Williams creases her perfect brows together at the two strangers, but thinks nothing of it as she continues to grade her students.

With a push of the curtains, they see you pacing along the floor alone, clearly nervous out of your mind while you keep looking back at the double doors. Hoping to see Hobie suddenly appear.

“Shit, did we fuck up?” Billie grasps her sister's shoulder while they peek their heads through the curtains.

Mona heaves, panic settling in her stomach. “I—”

She gets cut off before she could even say another word. The doors burst open, flying off the hinges to reveal Hobie in his outfit that you painstakingly made. The twins almost squeal in place, but they clamp down their mouths shut in case they disturb you and their dad.

“This is it.” Mona grabs Billie's hand, and they look at eachother with an excited grin.

“Hobie?” You ask, chest heaving, palms clammy.

Instead of Hobie grabbing your face and kissing you until you're breathless, he passes by you to get to the runway. The girls sees your posture deflate, face in pure disbelief and confusion.

“What?” Mona watches you in place while Billie can't believe her eyes while she follows where her dad is heading.

Hobie struts down the runway like he owns the place. Billie had to move her sister's head to make her look at their supposed silly dad making the runway his. Their eyes grow wide while camera flashes go off around him, which doesn't even faze him one bit, not while you're waiting at the end of the runway. As he heads back towards you, his fake model façade fades.

“Hobie, I—!” You say, and you're met with his lips upon your own.

With the closing of the runway, Hobie finally crosses the line he has been threading through for years.

When you kiss back, both Billie and Mona back away with their eyes closed but smiles on their faces.

They laugh with tears in their eyes, then with a hug, they leave the venue out into the sun. Hand in hand, they punch the right codes into the present.

“Ready?” Mona asks.

“Just press the bloody button, Mon-mon.”

A kaleidoscope of light appears, showering them in warmth, and down they go without wasting another second.

—

“Do you have your sisters’ ice cream?” You pat your son's head, and he hums against his ice cream cone, cheeks painted with caramel while showing you the plastic bag in his other hand. “You need a haircut, baby.” Giggling, Hobie opens the front door for you. “What a gentleman.”

Hobie points at his lips with a playful glint in his eyes. “Payment.”

You feign a sigh, “chivalry is dead, I guess.” And yet, you still give him a chaste kiss, tasting the cherry he plucked from your sundae.

A thud interrupts your tender gazes, and you instinctively look at your youngest, finding him all wide eyed and ice cream forgotten as he looks at the house.

“You okay there, little man?” Hobie asks, crouching down. He rubs his back and follows his gaze. Whistling out, he sees the entire house perfectly decorated for Halloween. Orange and purple streamers were strewn about the staircase, pumpkins and blackcats are placed in the same spot you always put them in. Plastic bats, gaudy string lights and knitted skeletons that you made while pregnant with your youngest, decorate your shared home. The girls definitely did their job perfectly, but they're nowhere to be seen.

You clutch onto Hobie, cheek pressed on his bicep, gawking at the decorated living room. “They even found the skeletons we thought were missing.”

Hobie chuckles, pecking the top of your head while his arm wraps around your middle and his free hand placed atop his son's head. “And even dressed the skeletons in my clothes.”

“They found Bilbo!” Your son runs off towards the mechanical witch that cackles when it detects movement. Somehow that one is his favourite.

“Mac and cheese, where are you?” Hobie calls for them, hand in hand with you while you two search the first floor of the house. Reaching the kitchen, roaming his eyes around, he just sees empty pumpkin shaped bowls on the counter and not a sign from either one of his girls. “Where—?” He jumps when he sees someone crawling on the ceiling towards him. “Fuck!” Yelling, he pushes you behind him to shield you from the ‘danger.’

Guffaws echo as Billie reveals herself, flinging her hair away to show her face. “I got you!” Giggling, she drops down on the floor, landing elegantly on her feet, and then beelining to embrace you and Hobie. She can finally hold you, the you that she knows and loves.

“Takin’ advantage of my lack of spidey senses for you and your sister, huh?” Hobie says, hugging her back with a heavy peck on the crown of her head.

“You and your sister did such a good job, Bee!” You rub her back while she hides her face on your shoulder, hiding her tears from you. Your mum senses tingle, “you okay, baby?”

Billie sniffs, leaning away briefly. “Yeah, I just missed you both so much.”

“We were only gone for an hour, Mac. Did somethin’ happen?” Hobie wipes away a stray tear from her cheek, worrying more when Mona is still nowhere to be found. “Where's your sister?”

An upside down face suddenly pops down from the ceiling in front of Hobie's face, making him jump away. “That's for mum!” She points accusingly at Hobie while she somersaults back on the ground.

Hobie holds his chest, “what did I do?!”

Ramona ignores him for a moment. “Hi, mum.” Embracing you, she rubs her face against your shoulder, trying hard not to sob in front of you.

“Hi, baby, why is everyone crying today, huh? You're gonna make me cry too.” You hold her cheeks, and then you kiss her forehead sweetly. Reaching for Billie, she immediately latches herself onto you, and you smother them both in kisses.

Hobie watches on with a tender smile, Mona beckons him over and he obliges as Mona detaches herself from you to hug him properly. He cups her jaw, looking at her eyes that's near identical to yours. “You okay, my toyota corolla?”

Ramona giggles, sniffing, and hugging him again with her arms around his neck. “Never better, dad.”

You smile, meeting Hobie's eyes, with your own shining with happy tears. He walks over to you and Billie with Mona in tow, hobbling over to you while he doesn't let go of her.

“Aww group hug!” You say, making it a mission to smooch each of their cheeks including Hobie's, who's always glad to receive them.

“We still haven't decorated the outside yet!” Billie shrieks as Hobie blows raspberries on her temple.

“We'll do that later, yeah?” Hobie leans away, admiring you and his girls with a tender smile. He wraps his arms around everyone as best as he can, almost carrying the three of you as he slowly twirls the group in place in the home that he made with you.

You and Hobie will ask about what happened later, and maybe they even have a story to tell for you two. But for now, you hold them in your arms, squeezing them affectionately.

There's clattering behind you, and you see your youngest covered in fake spider webs, with a confused look on his face that's a carbon copy of his dad's face.

“What did I miss?”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

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hyperfix-wip · 18 days ago

Text

Webbed Together

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader/ Spider-Punk x Fem!Reader

Word count: 9.5k

Author's Note: *6. Months. Later....* ....So...we're back? 😅 I am so. fucking. sorry 😭 Not gonna lie, this one was a doozy for me. I actually had to think long and hard with how I wanted to approach this particular chapter (plus a lot of the stuff happened, but that's not important to the topic lol). But, yeah, I really wanted to write this one as precisely as how I imagined it, especially with how I ended Chapter 5. Not sure how this one will actually be, but I think I'm pretty proud of this one. I'd like to thank @the-kr8tor and @pinksugarscrub for really helping me out for this one. They are honestly the best people I could ever ask for, especially for the amount of yapping and panicking over Billie and Ramona. I don't know what I would do without them to help me bring these girls to life

Tags: Parent Trap!AU, Dad!Hobie AU, Twin!AU, Billie and Ramona!AU, Older!Hobie, Mom!Reader, Older!Reader, Fluff, Slight Angst, Slight Hurt/Comfort, TW Anxiety

Chapter 6: Paramnesia

<<< Chapter 5 Chapter 7>>>

“Step lively,” the elderly counselor briskly hikes up the dirt trail, her heavy boots stomping down the worn down path. “The sooner we reach your new quarters, the sooner you two can be settled in.”

A winded groan slips through Ramona’s lips as sweat beads up and rolls down her face. Heat from the sun’s rays beats down against her slick neck as she trudges behind the counselor, the strap of her duffle bag and guitar case gradually digging into both her shoulders the higher she hikes up the steep hill. Her legs strain from the constant upturn of the hike, screaming bloody murder at her to take a break, but she continues on with a stubborn grit to her teeth. She blows up at a loose coil on her face with an annoyed frown before glancing to the side. Billie huffs and drags her roller suitcase up the uneven path, not faring any better as she grips onto her violin case.

Birds squawk above the towering trees, mockingly so, as they soar through the blue sky towards their intended direction. A brief prick of jealousy stings in Ramona’s chest as she weakly glares at the flying smug rats with feathers, taunting her with their wings gliding through the wind, free from any heavy baggage over their shoulders, free from sweating and ruining their legs up this stupid hill–

The moment she reaches the top of the hill, Ramona heaves out a tired groan before she stops to catch her breath, hunching over and resting her hands on her knees while her mind continues to curse out the passing birds. Billie trails behind her before collapsing on a nearby tree stump, kicking her suitcase to the ground as she gasps for air.

“Oh, thank god, proper flat land!” Billie rolls onto her back on the stump, her limbs dangling from it while she stares up at the sky. “M’ plates o’ meat’re killin’ me, they migh’ jus’ start fallin’ off t’e bone–”

A guffaw rips through Ramona’s lips before her breaths stutter out her lungs. She stumbles over to a tree and leans against it, trembling and tearing up from holding in her pained laughs.

“What?!” Ramona manages to sputter out before succumbing to the burning in her lungs, coughing up a lung with choked out wheezes.

Billie turns her head to her trembling double with a cheeky grin, sweat trailing down her forehead and mirth glinting in her eyes as her accent grows thicker. “Yeah, jus’ creamed after trekking up t’is damn hill–” Ramona instantly chokes from her own spit before collapsing onto the ground on her knees with another wheeze– “ ‘n take a butcher’s a’ me daisies!”

A strained grunt rips through Billie’s lips as she lifts her legs up in the air, swaying back and forth while she flutters her dirt-covered combat boots. “Absolutely muddied ‘n pimpled wit’ pebbles, innit? Ya’d t’ink t’e paths ‘ere’d be smooth ‘n not a safety hazard–”

A shadow suddenly looms over Billie, briefly startling her as her legs swing back down to the dirt, before she looks up at the deadpan of the counselor.

“Are you two finished?”

Billie sheepishly laughs as she pushes herself up from the stump. Ramona coughs out the rest of her laughter before pushing herself up the ground and shuffling over next to Billie, embarrassment flushing on her cheeks. The counselor blankly stares at the identical duo before dropping her head and letting out a relenting sigh.

“Alright then, you two. We have six weeks left at camp, but since the two of you have resorted to non-peaceful matters against your fellow camper, you two will be spending every glorious one of them in this isolation cabin.”

The elderly counselor points her thumb over her shoulder, and the girls look behind her to see an old run-down cabin sitting in the shadows on the top of the hill. Eerie creaks echo through the woods as a breeze blows against the cabin, some of the roof tiles fluttering and barely hanging on the roof, and the wooden staircase leading up to the rocket porch barely looks stable enough for someone to set foot on it. Both girls stare at their new quarters with evident disbelief as a bird flies up to a wooden banister, only for it to creak and start to tip to the side before the bird frantically flies off it.

“...’s a li’l much for a punishment, innit?” Billie bluntly asks before straightening up to look at the counselor. “Wasn’t there another cabin we passed by earlier? It looked…”

“Stable?” Ramona suggests. “Structurally sound?”

“Less haunted–”

“Alright, I understand this cabin is not ideal for the both of you,” the counselor tries to placate the duo, “but the other cabin is already being occupied by another camper.”

Billie’s eyes narrow into cat-like slits as she crosses her arms against her chest. “Lemme guess, Benny’s got the nicer lookin’ cabin–”

“I will not divulge that information–”

“But ‘m right though, huh?”

“I will not answer that–”

“But ‘m right though– OW–”

Ramona quickly elbows Billie in the arm, effectively shutting down any more provocation from the Brit double as she winces and rubs her arm with a pout. “What was that for?...”

Ramona rolls her eyes at Billie before focusing on the counselor again. “Is there another reason why we couldn’t have the cabin from earlier?”

The elderly woman drops her shoulders in relief at Ramona’s calm demeanor. “The cabin could only house one camper, so we had to give the other camper his own space–”

“You could say it’s Benny,” Billie interjects with a nonchalant shrug. “We already know it is–”

“As I was saying,” the counselor cuts back in, narrowing her eyes at Billie in disapproval before turning back to Ramona, “it could only hold space for one camper, so it was decided that you two will be staying at the bigger isolation cabin while Benjamin–”

“Benjamin?” Billie stifles a snicker before Ramona elbows her again, biting back another wince while the counselor ignores her and continues.

“–while Benjamin will be staying at the other one.”

Despite Ramona quietly nodding along, her lips purse into a pensive frown. “Hm, okay. That makes sense, I guess. So it has nothing to do with the fact that Benny’s your grandson?”

A small snort sneaks up on Billie as the elderly counselor’s brief smile drops from the sudden question.

“...no, it has nothing to do with that.”

Billie’s face scrunches up into a disbelieving frown, her brows furrowing until her forehead ripples into small wrinkles. “...you sure?”

“Yes–”

“You sure sure?”

“Yes–”

“ ‘cuz it sounds like a convenient excuse–”

“IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH–”

The counselor abruptly stops herself before she could say more, taking a deep breath before moving on. “Anywho, since you girls are sisters, I would assume you two would be fine sharing a cabin with each other until camp is over.”

Both girls glance at each other, confusion flooding their faces, before looking back at the elderly woman and answering at the same time.

“We’re not sisters though.”

“You have got to be kidding–” the counselor sputters in exasperation– “what do you mean you’re not–”

“We literally just met yesterday,” Billie adds on with a shrug while Ramona nods along. “Had a laugh ‘bout it ‘n all tha’–”

“But you two are practically twins!”

The girls look over at each other again, Billie tilting her head to the side with a scrunched up nose, and Ramona tilting her head the opposite way with a furrowed brow.

“…her teeth’s a bit off though, innit?” Billie bluntly counters with a nonchalant smile, “a little gap in her front teeth, but not too bad.”

Ramona instantly rolls her eyes and stares at Billie with a deadpan. “What does my teeth have anything to do with this–”

“Regardless–” the counselor interrupts in exasperation– “you two will be staying here. Is that understood?”

The girls glance over each other, skepticism mirrored in their eyes, before they reluctantly look back at the adamant counselor. Without another word, the same thought flickered in their minds.

She’s full of bull.

—

The interior of the cabin (unsurprisingly) matches the exterior– creaking floorboards, peeling paint, cracked walls, groaning rooftop– vindicating Billie’s suspicions as she belly flops onto one of the twin beds with a muffled grunt. Her luggage clatters on the wooden floors as the metal springs in the mattress groans underneath her. The smell of lemon-scented cleaning products barely masks the mustiness in the air, even when she buries and irritates her face into the stiffly-starched pillow.

The absence of giddy chatter and gossip from her old cabin sends a wave of discomfort in Billie; cold shivers prick up her skin from the looming solitude within these worn-out wooden walls. The only sounds reverberating in her ears are the wind blowing against the loose roof boards, as if the cabin itself is breathing its labored breaths, and shuffling from the only other person in her new space. Ignoring the itch tickling her nose, Billie turns her head over and stares across the room, her eyes lingering on Ramona’s back while she unzips her duffle bag on her own bed.

Dark tight coils tied up into a ponytail with a red scrunchie, green nylon rustling from her oversized windbreaker, paint-splattered trainers absently bouncing against the squeaking floorboards– it’s like if Billie’s watching herself in some strange 90s sitcom that Uncle James and Auntie Yuri would love to watch. It’s even weirder that Ramona is so…quiet. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, though, but… it’s weird seeing someone with Billie’s face and be so quiet.

For a brief moment Billie remembers the time Uncle James read to her about doppelgangers– when you meet yours, they’re usually your evil twin bringing bad luck into your life. Ramona doesn’t seem evil though, if anything, she’s more of a good person than anybody here.

Would that make Billie the evil twin? Nah, she’s too cute to be evil.

Even though she did kick Benny’s arse and wrestle him to the ground. But he deserved it. Obviously.

While Billie’s mind wanders, Ramona looks over her shoulder with a befuddled frown, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed up into a slight frown. “Uh…is there something on my back?”

Billie’s eyes refocus and flick up to Ramona’s, the same familiar russet shade as hers, the same shade as her dad’s.

If anything, Ramona's eyes look more like her dad’s. Odd.

“Nah,” Billie groans as she pushes herself up on the bed. Her eyes flick to the neatly folded clothes and small, organized piles on Ramona’s bed– pens, papers, bonnets and scrunchies, guitar chords, printed pictures. “Jus’ havin’ a gander a’ me new roomie.”

A small snort slips through Ramona’s nose as she turns around and sits on the edge of her bed, some of her trinkets sliding down against her sides from the sudden shift in weight. “Still a little weird for me, not gonna lie. Didn’t think I was gonna get in trouble, especially with fighting.”

“To be fair, you weren’ fightin’,” Billie shrugs as she pushes her curls out of her face, “you had the right t’ slap ‘im in t’e face. T’was jus’ unlucky tha’ t’e li’l twit ended up havin’ his nan under his thumb.”

A stifled snort briefly slips through Ramona’s nose, and she covers her mouth before she quietly giggles behind her hand.

If someone who knew Billie saw Ramona in her outfit laughing right now, they’d probably have whiplash. Or at least fear for the end of the world while making sure she isn’t sick or dying…

That’s a little annoying to think about, Billie fights the urging twitch creeping up in her eye.

“Anyway,” Billie huffs, swinging her feet up in the air and slamming her boot soles onto the protesting floorboards before pushing herself up from her bed, “we migh’ as well get ta know each other now. Can’t really get comfy here for t’e rest of camp if I don’ know a t’ing ‘bout you.”

Each slow, heavy step from Billie approaching Ramona reverberates against the walls and floorboards. Small chains dangle from Billie’s army green cargos, clinking softly against the denim, and silver studs on her denim vest glint under the sunlight shining through the grime-stained windows. With a lopsided grin Billie holds her hand out to her double, mirth and mischief flashing in her eyes.

“Billie Jean Brown, nice t’ meet’cha. But you can call me Billie.”

An amused scoff slips through Ramona’s lips before she grabs Billie’s hand with a firm shake. “Do you always introduce yourself like that to everybody?”

“Eh, ‘sa habit,” Billie shrugs before letting go, hopping onto Ramona’s bed with an oof, making Ramona bounce up from the impact with a squeak. “Gotta make yourself known ‘fore ev’rybody tries t’ do it for ya.”

Billie then wraps her arm around Ramona’s shoulder and pulls her against her side, “Least tha’s what m’ dad told me anyway.”

A small grunt breaks through Ramona’s lips before she gives a sidelong glance to her punk double, her eyes flicking to the dangling silver hoop in Billie’s earlobe and the matching ear cuff on the rim of her ear.

“But enough ‘bout me,” Billie barks out a mischievous laugh, shaking Ramona out of her small trance. “I wanna know more ‘bout t’e damsel tha’ smacked Benny in the conk–”

“His what?” Ramona chokes out a guffaw, pushing the snickering Brit off her before Billie flops down on the creaky mattress. “Look, I didn’t actually mean to hit him! He just kept pulling my hair–”

“ ‘m not sayin’ it’s bad!” Billie cackles as she props herself up with her elbows, her wild dark curls splayed a stark contrast to the starched white sheets. “If anythin’, ya could’ve gotten more hits in–”

“No!” Small giggles bubble up from Ramona’s chest, slipping through her lips and nose through short bursts of exhales while she curls up against the headboard of her bed, easily sliding her sneakers off her feet before tucking them underneath her. “I had enough violence for the rest of camp!”

Billie playfully rolls her eyes before she flops back down on the bed, dried mud flaking off the soles of her boots on the wooden floor. “The twit had it comin’ though!”

“That doesn’t matter!”

“ ‘Course it does!”

Their laughter bounces against the groaning wood, piercing through the heavy silence within the isolated cabin, while the sunlight gradually peeks through the grimey windows and warms the room.

“Now c’mon, Mon-mon!” Billie huffs out as she rolls along the bed, careful to avoid rubbing dried mud on the covers, “Don’ leave me hangin’! I don’ ‘ave a scooby doo ‘bout ya, so start rabbitin’ on–”

“Alright, alright!” Ramona plants her hand on the rolling punk girl, earning a cheeky giggle from Billie as she melts along the grooves of the bed. With a small mirthful huff, Ramona crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side, her pulled-back coils fluttering down to the side. “There’s not much to know about me though–”

“ ‘Course there is,” Billie rolls her eyes with a pout, stretching her lanky arms out. “You could talk ‘bout whateva’ comes t’ mind. Like where’re yer from, yer fav’rite games…”

Billie’s eyes flick down at Ramona’s clothes for a brief moment before flicking back to Ramona’s eyes with a quirked eyebrow, “or why yer dressed up like a primary school teacher–” “I’m gonna ignore that last option,” Ramona rolls her eyes before she gently pushes Ramona back with her flower-printed socked foot. Billie groans in feigned hurt as she rolls back to the other side of the bed, her lips curling back up to that familiar cat-like grin.

With another playful roll of her eyes, Ramona straightens up her back and reaches up to fix her ponytail. “Well, my name is Ramona, and…”

A second of trailing off, to two, to three, until Ramona sheepishly shrugs and pulls her hands away from her coils, “I don’t know, I…I like mac and cheese?”

A loud snort breaks through the comfortable silence before Billie barks out a cackle, prompting Ramona to kick her double off her bed until Billie flops onto the wooden floor with a grunted “oi!”

“Shut up!” Ramona huffs out with a flush creeping up her face, “That’s all I could think of–”

More snickers bubble up in Billie’s chest as she pushes herself up from the ground, brushing the dust off her clothes, before grinning at the pouting Ramona. “I never said it was a bad t’ing! I like mac’roni cheese too– oh, stop hidin’ your face, it ain’t tha’ serious–”

Laughter rips through Ramona’s throat as Billie quickly grabs her wrists and pry her arms away from her face. The action itself is surprisingly familiar to Ramona – as if this isn’t their first time being alone together, as if they have been like this for a lifetime rather than for an hour. It seems easier to be around Billie somehow, even easier than with Arnold despite her overt brashness. Maybe the ridiculous circumstances between them broke through the usual awkward small talk phase, or maybe Ramona is slowly growing accustomed to Billie's overfamiliarity.

Either way, Ramona, for once, doesn’t think about it too much.

—

Loud clatters shatter the silence within the worn cabin walls, followed by a disgruntled curse from a certain Brit.

“Bloody hell– not again!”

With a furrowed brow Ramona glances up from her bass, already dressed in her green pajamas and her matching bonnet, while Billie scrambles onto the floor to deal with the aftermath of her belongings exploding from her suitcase. Wrinkled shirts, creased pants, worn down notebooks, small half-filled bottles of different products– the chaotic mess is enough for Ramona’s fingers to have the urge to straighten and organize everything.

Ramona slowly sets her bass aside on her bed and slides off her bed, the wooden floors creaking under her socked feet, before kneeling down to pick up a crumpled shirt (and ignoring the urge to smooth it out in front of Billie).

“What’re you looking for?” Ramona inquires as she continues to pick up the scattered items on the floor, mentally wincing at the sight of dust from the floor on the clothes.

Jesus, they’re gonna have to clean this place up too, huh? A seed of doubt plants itself in Ramona’s chest when her eyes drift over to the open suitcase, the remaining clothes and other belongings a small mountain threatening to crumble down with a landslide.

“M’ towel ‘n bonnet,” Billie replies as she tosses her clothes over her shoulder and onto her– no, don’t throw them on the bed! – “Pro’lly shouldn't've taken tha’ nap earlier, bu’ t’e damn hike got me knackered.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t understand half the things you’re saying,” Ramona coughs out a huff while she crawls on her knees closer to her punk double, handing her her things despite the growing itch in her fingers to fold them.

“Wha’, you wanna write a dictionary fer yerself or sumthin’?”

“...that might actually help, yeah.”

A loud guffaw rips through the punk girl, her grin becoming a familiar sight for Ramona, before Billie grabs her clothes and tosses them over her shoulder again. Ramona briefly winces again from a pair of black shorts sliding down between Billie’s bed and the wooden wall. Is that area even clean?

“Yer an actual riot, Mon-mon,” Billie wheezes before she drags the suitcase closer to herself, the silver metal scraping against the hardwood. “It ain’t tha’ hard t’ understan’ me, yeah?”

A pregnant silence soon follows, with Ramona raising her eyebrow with a clear deadpan.

“Well, you can understan’ me now,” Billie playfully rolls her eyes, a snort slipping through her nose while she rummages through her suitcase, her hands digging deep into the pile. A twitch unconsciously pulses in Ramona’s eye when a couple shirts from the pile plops down onto the ground from Billie’s movements as Billie tugs a ratty, faded orange towel out from it.

God, Ramona might actually have to clean this cabin up.

“...do you need help putting your stuff away?” Ramona hesitantly asks, her eyes flicking back and forth between Billie and her suitcase, “That way you don’t have to worry about it later?”

“Yeah?” The same grin grows on Billie’s face again. “Tha’d actually help me out, thanks!”

A wave of relief washes over the itch in her hands as Ramona lowers herself onto her rear. Her nose wrinkles from the obvious layer of dust against the dark green fabric of her pajama bottoms before she lightly smacks it off her knees.

Yeah, she’s definitely cleaning tomorrow.

“Oh yeah, been meanin’ ta ask ya,” Billie continues on, throwing her towel over her shoulder while her other hand still wriggles in her suitcase, “been eyin’ yer bass fer a while. How long ‘ave you been playin’?”

Ramona’s eyes widen from the sudden question while her hands gingerly smooth out some wrinkles from a random shirt from the pile. They briefly flick over to the numerous patches and pins on her denim vest, the punk rock influence blatantly obvious to her, before sweat breaks out on her back.

“Oh, uh… like a year or two?” Ramona sheepishly smiles, laying the now-folded shirt on her lap before grabbing another one from the pile. “I haven’t been playing too long, only just switched to it after playing the ukulele for a while–”

“Ukulele?”

Ramona’s eyes instantly squint from how bright Billie’s smile got. “Damn, ya know how to play tha’? Tha’s really cool!”

“It is?”

“Yeah!” A twinkle glints in Billie’s eyes. “I mean, my dad ‘n uncles taugh’ me how t’ play a bunch o’ instruments, but they never had a ukulele. Who taught ya, by the way?”

Ramona slowly leans back as Billie leans closer to her, her personal bubble instantly compromised, before Ramona slowly pushes her punk double back with an embarrassed smile.

“I, uh, I actually taught myself. Just looked up some Youtube videos when my mom bought me a ukulele from her business trip and followed them…”

Heat slowly creeps up on Ramona’s cheeks the longer she’s under Billie’s scrutiny, the eager glint in her eyes making her shrink into herself more. “And for the bass… I asked my mom if I can learn bass after…”

Ramona’s cheeks redden even more as she trails off, the enthrallment in Billie’s eyes growing more daunting by the minute, “...after I heard a really cool baseline from a song…”

A heavy rock plummets in Ramona’s stomach as the familiar ringing creeps up in her ears again. The dust clinging to her pajamas suddenly weighs down on her knees, her mind screaming and clawing in her head to smack more of the dust off. The creaking from the floorboards muffles in and out of her ears, but they’re drowned out by the ringing– that damn ringing– while her mind starts to spiral.

Why couldn’t you just lie and say you just got interested in playing bass? Look at Billie, she looks like she’s already ready for a huge stage with a guitar or something! She’s gonna think you’re a poser now–

“Which one?”

The berating voices and the ringing grow silent as Ramona’s eyes flick up at Billie, patiently waiting for her answer.

“Which what?”

“Song. Which song’re ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Billie laughs, as if it’s obvious. “Is it like a classic from an old band or sumthin’? Like t’e bands my dad would listen to? He likes songs with a really cool bassline, even though he likes playing electric guitar more– anyway, I know t’ere’s a lotta bands like The Ramones, The Clash, Dead Kennedys, Bad Brains–”

Ramona’s shoulders shake a bit as she lets out a soft huff of a laugh, the tension in her body slowly seeping away from Billie’s enthusiasm. “I don’t know if the song I’m talking about fits those bands’ kind of vibe…”

Ramona starts to get up, only for the clothes she’s been folding absently start to slide from her lap. A conflicted frown pinches her face before she tucks them under her arm and pushes herself up.

She will be damned if she let these clothes get covered in dust.

“It has more of a synthy, pop-alternative kind of vibe,” Ramona rambles on as she scrambles to the nightstand beside her bed for her mp3 player, “but the instrumentals are still really catchy, and the song itself is actually kinda sad if you pay attention to the lyrics–”

“There’s m’ bonnet!”

Billie cheers behind Ramona before trying to pull it out of her suitcase, but the joy is short-lived. A deafening rip breaks through the comfortable peace, the silence palpable and heavy. Ramona slowly looks over her shoulder, only to meet the thinly-veiled shock and distress in Billie’s eyes and the tattered remains of a patched up bonnet in her hands still stuck in the hinges of her suitcase.

Ramona’s hand hovering over the awaiting mp3 player stills in the air, fingers twitching from the awkward tension, before she trails it down to the top drawer and pulls it open to rummage through. With a sheepish smile she pulls out a shiny red silk bonnet and holds it out to her distraught double.

“Uh…wanna use one of mine?”

—

Quiet chatters echo through the mess hall the next morning, campers sleepily lining up and grabbing their trays for the awaiting breakfast on the table. Aromas of cooked sausage and bacon waft in the space, the crackling sizzle of eggs and batter frying on the griddle mingle in the background, and the stacked trays of different breakfasts– eggs, pancakes and waffles, hashbrowns, biscuits and gravy, etc. – present themselves on the long tables, waiting to be eaten.

Amongst the sea of tables that other kids swarm around for an empty spot there is a small table tucked in the corner of the mess hall, one with a laminated sign taped on the edge for the whole camp to see.

Isolation Table.

The only occupants sitting in the lone table, away from the rest of the campers, are Billie and Ramona, sitting across each other with their own trays of food. While Ramona’s tray only has small portions of sausage and scrambled eggs on her plate, Billie’s has a stack of pancakes, teetering from the weight of the browned, puffy slabs. A waterfall of honey gradually cascades down from the summit, trailing down the crisped edges and pooling into the indented plate into a moat of viscous amber. With a glint of awe in her eyes, Billie carefully tears at the jagged edge of her fifth packet of honey, her fingertips tacky from sticky edges of her discarded packets, before she starts to squeeze every last drop onto her pancakes.

Ramona, with her fork lined with egg still hovering in the air, stares at her punk double with mild bewilderment and horror, her throat tightening from the cloying sight of the pancakes being waterboarded with honey. She winces from Billie licking the leftovers off her fingers, her tongue trembling from the saccharine sight, and she blanches the moment Billie saws through a large piece through the stack and stabs through it before shoving it in her mouth.

Despite the blissful smile curling up on Billie’s stuffed face, Ramona’s stomach churns from the thought of having a mouthful of honey flooding her mouth and throat.

Billie flicks her eyes up from her plate with a swallow, oblivious to the subtle revulsion on her double’s face, before spearing another piece of honey-soaked pancake and holding it out to her.

“...wan’ a bite–?”

“No thank you.”

With a shrug Billie stuffs the bite into her mouth again, and another small wave of nausea washes over Ramona before she finally looks away and finally takes her own bite of food, only for her face to scrunch up from the imaginary honey clinging to her tongue.

Appetite lost, Ramona’s eyes flick away from sweet-loving Billie to the rest of the mess hall, lingering on the other campers crowding in the numerous lunch tables. A cacophony of laughter and clattering utensils bounce against the walls and into Ramona’s ears, a welcome white noise to the deafening silence in their cabin when Billie is off to her independent violin lessons (which is surprising for Ramona considering Billie’s personality, but to each their own, she guesses.)

Her russet eyes soon land on a familiar figure across the room, hunching over his food with a solemn frown as he pokes his spoon in a small plastic bowl of frosted cereal. Arnold, grimacing even more at the growing sogginess of the cereal, slowly pushes his bowl away from him before turning his head towards her direction.

The moment their eyes meet across the mess hall, Ramona instantly sees the hesitation wavering in Arnold’s, the guilt following soon after as he shrinks from her. He looks like a puppy, keeping his head down with remorse while waiting for his owner to yell at him for doing something wrong.

A dull ache pools in Ramona’s chest, but she wills it to go away as she gives her friend a reassuring smile and mouths out the only words of comfort she could think of.

I’m okay.

She can still see the wavering in his eyes, the lingering doubt. She knows he still feels bad about what happened with Benny and his grandma, about her being pulled from the regular jazz lessons for her own independent lessons, about her and Billie moving out of their respective cabins for the isolation cabin. She doesn’t blame him though, she doesn’t regret it. If she was given a chance to go back in time to that game, she wouldn’t do anything different.

Annie soon pops up behind Arnold with her own tray and sets it down next to him, briefly breaking him away from Ramona’s gaze, and a small wave of relief ebbs through Ramona. At least Arnold isn’t alone.

After a moment of quiet chatter between them Annie glances up to Ramona’s direction, and a small encouraging smile curls up on Annie’s face, as if to tell her to hang in there. With a growing smile, Ramona holds up a thumbs up to them in understanding.

Relief briefly flickers on Annie’s face before her face suddenly drops, her brows furrowing and her jaw dropping in disbelief instead. Confused, Ramona slowly looks behind her, only for her face to drop in alarm at Billie shoving the last honey-soaked pancake into her mouth, a sticky empty plate sitting in front of her.

At that moment, Ramona decides that she’s not eating honey anytime soon.

—

Loud merry whistling rings out in the open, standing out amongst the rustling of leaves and crunching gravel under rubber soles. Soft clanking against metal harmonizes with the whistles, the handles of the violin case swinging back and forth from Billie’s bounce in her steps, echoing against the backdrop of the towering greenery surrounding her as she treks her way back to the cabin.

Birds fly overhead with their tuneful chirping, faint reverberations of different instruments from different music lessons bounce against wood and leaves, laughter and chatter from other campers lap against Billie’s ears– each sound becomes a melody for her to take in, each an accompanying note or harmony for her own personal soundtrack.

Despite the annoyingly far distance across the camp from her violin lessons to her abode, Billie doesn’t mind the walk itself, especially without her luggage torturing her arms and legs with their weight. The scenery itself is beautiful– mother nature, a riot of viridescence and burnt siennas against the manmade structures of the cabins in the campgrounds. The vividly earthy colors are a stark contrast to the drab concrete grays in London, the constant roaring of traffic and waves of pedestrians already a distant memory to her. Her eyes drift over to the glittering distance where the lake should be, a startlingly beautiful accent to the rest of the camp, before pulling away to the winding trail to the cabin.

Her violin case continues to smack against the side of her thigh with each step, a rhythmic low thudding akin to Uncle James’s bass drum during band practice. Her whistles gradually switch up to another familiar tune to her, one that Auntie Yuri whistles to while she watches the rest of the band packing all of the instruments with Billie (much to the chagrin of Uncle Ned barking at her to help).

Those little reminders gradually reel in her mind the longer she thinks about them, a small weight under her shirt growing warmer with each thought, before she absently reaches for the braided red string around her neck and tugs out her lucky pick. Billie’s thumb runs along the weathered grooves on the plastic, the familiar scratchings of the initials ‘HB’ on it sending a wave of comfort over the brief ache of homesickness.

As much as she likes being here– even with the setback of getting in trouble and forced into independent study for the rest of camp– she still misses the band. She misses the offkey singing from Uncle James while he drives the band van, the unabashed laughter from Auntie Yuri when they go sightseeing, the thrumming of Uncle Ned’s fingers while he tries to figure out how to braid her hair during their concert intermissions, and especially the soft humming from her dad as he lulls her to sleep.

As much as she likes being here, she still misses home.

Blinking away the burning in the back of her eyes with a sniffle, Billie continues to trek up the hiking trail to her temporary home in this camp. Just a few more weeks, just a few more weeks until she goes back home–

Billie’s feet suddenly halt once they step onto the top of the hill, her eyes bulging from the sight of plumes of dust chimneying out of open windows. Loud coughing echoes through the forests, along with the now-familiar groaning from the cabin itself, before she stumbles and rushes to the sound. Her heavy soles pound against the dirt and gravel, the wooden porch steps nearly cracking in protest from her stomping, the thudding of her feet breaking through the groans of the old cabin, until Billie finally stumbles underneath the doorway and peers inside.

Most of the cabin is startlingly sparkly. What was once caked in grime, the cracked windows are now clear, the sunlight now shining down and brightening the space. The wooden shelves and walls are more polished, not dulled with layers of dirt from months– maybe years– worth of neglected dusting. The mustiness in the air is gone, replaced with long-awaited fresh air flowing through the open windows and door. Even the hardwood floor, which used to be plastered with dried mud and dust, is now squeaky clean– gleaming and varnished with the scent of lemon lingering in the air. Ramona, oblivious to the gaping Billie behind her, sneezes and coughs while smacking a large dust-covered rag out the window, her overalls and cheeks just as covered in dust and dirt.

“Holy bloody hell…” Billie mutters under her breath before glancing down to her dusty combat boots. A conflicted frown pulls on her face before she hurriedly unties her boots and kicks them off, her socked feet padding against the clean floor as she approaches her double.

Muffled music hums around Ramona the closer Billie gets, the sounds of a catchy baseline and a synth-like piano ringing through Ramona’s earphones, distracting her enough for Billie to be close behind until she taps on Ramona’s shoulder.

A shrill scream rips through Ramona, jolting Billie with her own scream, before she snaps her head around and glares at the sheepish Brit.

“Jesus Christ!” Ramona huffs as she pulls an earphone out, the bassline blasting through the speaker bud. “You can’t just sneak up on somebody like that, Billie–”

“The hell happened here?” Billie laughs, her eyes completely enthralled by the spotless state of their quarters. “This wha’ you’ve been doin’ all mornin’?! Didn’t ya have lessons or sumthin’?”

Ramona sighs as she flops down on top of her trunk, a wearily satisfied smile curling up on her lips as she watches Billie wander around the space with an impressed glint in her eyes. “Just a one-on-one bass session with one of the counselors. I didn’t really have other activities planned for today though…”

“My god, Mon-mon, I’ve been gone for a few hours!” Billie scoffs in amazement before she lightly tosses her violin case onto her bed, which was left in its own messy state in the morning. “You got all this done?! ‘s like some Disney princess magic shite o’ sumthin’.”

A snort slips through Ramona’s nose while Ramona sheepishly looks away from the Brit. “It’s not much–” Billie instantly gives her a deadpan–”...okay, actually it was a lot, but it wasn’t a big deal. I was just getting tired of having dust all over me.”

“We just moved in here like two days ago–”

“And I got tired of it in those two days.”

Another bark of laughter booms from Billie as she steps up in front of Ramona, picking up the earbud and tucking it in her ear. “Ya really hav’ tha’ clean freak vibe, don’t cha.”

“I’m not a clean freak! I just don’t like feeling gross and dirty.”

“Yeah, yeah, whateva’ ya say, Snow White,” Billie snickers as she gently bobs her head, her wild coils swaying back and forth in tandem with the drum kick. “Song ain’t bad. A little poppy fer me, but I like the psychedelic vibe of it.”

Ramona’s eyes instantly light up, the fatigue from the cleanup dissolving like smoke. “Oh yeah, this was the song I was talking about earlier! I personally think the synths are a great backdrop to the bassline, and the drums are also a great partner to it. And the lyrics themselves are really deep, like they’re talking about having an unrequited love–”

Her smile instantly drops once she notices Billie’s eyes widening and her face dropping in shock, and Ramona sheepishly glances shrinks down under the punk’s scrutiny.

“Sorry,” Ramona mumbles as she stares down at her mp3 player in her hands, “you probably don’t really care about that–”

“Nah, keep goin’,” Billie slowly grins. “I wanna hear more.”

Ramona’s eyes snap up at her Brit double, heat creeping up on her cheeks and the back of her ears, before she turns her head away.

“No, it’s embarrassing–”

“Oi, don’t gimme tha’!” Billie scoffs, nudging Ramona’s leg with her own. “If ya like sumthin’, ya like sumthin’! Ya can’t jus’ back away from it!”

She plops down next to the flustered Ramona on the large trunk and bumps their shoulders together with her signature cat-like grin. “Now, c’mon, what other songs do ya have? Ya go with more of a bubblegum poppy vibe or a psychedelic alt one?”

Ramona rolls her eyes again before she clicks on the middle play button, the screen flashing its blue light and revealing multiple named playlists and as she scrolls through them. “I listen to other genres, like hip-hop, rock, alternative–”

“So you picked out all of these songs on it?”

“...no. My mom did.”

A slight petulant pout juts out from Ramona’s lower lip as she continues to scroll down the menu. “I mean, I like listening to them either way…I just get more options through my phone than on this…”

“ ‘s better than usin’ a cassette player,” Billie huffs out a small laugh as she holds her hand out, waiting for Ramona to place the player on it. “M’ dad refuses t’ use a dog, let alone a tablet, ‘cuz he t’inks the gov’ment’s spyin’ on us ‘n keepin’ track o’ our data. M’ Uncle James jus’ calls ‘im old, though, ‘cuz he doesn’ know how to use ‘em.”

A brief flicker of confusion crosses through Ramona’s eyes– What does a dog have to do with this? – before she notices the telltale sheen in Billie’s downcast eyes. The pensive smile on her face, the slight strain on her lip. That familiar trembling of her fingers.

Ramona’s gaze softens before gently dropping the mp3 player onto Billie’s palm. “Maybe you can get your dad one of these instead. I’m sure they’re old-school enough for him to listen to music with.”

“Nah, he actually sucks a’ using these too,” Billie lets out a watery chuckle as she starts to scroll through. “Crazy, though, ‘cuz he knows how to take stuff like ‘ese apart and put ‘em back together, but he doesn’ know how t’ download a song–”

A sharp gasp hitches in the Brit, her eyes widening and her jaw dropped, before she lets out a bark of a laugh again, any trace of vulnerability on her face replaced by pure elation.

“Oh my god, you actually listen to this band?! Okay, wait wait wait wait wait–”

Billie then bolts off the trunk, accidentally yanking the earbud out of Ramona’s ear, before scrambling to her own. “No, ‘cuz I have the perfect t’ing for this! Annie let me borrow this before I moved out, but I never got t’ chance t’ use it!”

The moment Billie unlatches and pops her trunk open, Ramona’s face falters in dismay from the shambolic state inside. Crumpled t-shirts and pants in disarray, crinkled papers sticking out between layers of clothes, and some pencil eraser ends peeking out– is that even safe to stick your hand in?!

Ramona flinches when Billie haphazardly shoves her hand inside, digging through the chaos within, before she yanks her arm out with a large pill-shaped speaker in her hand.

“Found it! I t’ink they should be compat’ble wit’ each other– oh, wait, there should be a chord with this, unless yer player’s got bluetooth or sumthin’–”

“Yeah– yeah, it has it,” Ramona scrambles over to Billie before she risks plunging her hand inside her trunk again, “but can we do it after we get your side cleaned up?...”

Billie owlishly blinks at Ramona before slowly glancing over to her bed. The fitted sheets are half off the mattress, pillows and a crumpled blanket are scattered across the bed, and her stuffed bunny Pom-pom hanging off the edge. Her eyes also linger on the layer of dust and grime on the windowsill beside her bed and a suspicious cobweb–that definitely wasn’t there before hovering–over her headboard.

Her face pinches in reluctance at the sight, clearly not enthused at the potential work, before an idea pops into her head.

“Or maybe…”

—

The Ramones blare through the speaker, upbeat guitar and drums vibrating against the wooden walls and rattling against the windows. Loud thumps ring through the music, socked feet and painted converses stomping and jumping against the groaning floorboards, as the two girls thrash and dance across the cabin.

Billie headbangs to the raw guitar riff, her dark coils wildly swishing in the air, while she plays her air guitar along the instrumentals with feather dusters in hand. Giggles bubble up from Billie’s chest as the familiar rush of adrenaline washes over her, images of flashing lights and screaming crowds ringing in the background of her mind with each thrash of her head, shadows of leather and spike-cladded bodies flitting back and forth on her mini concert.

Ramona, meanwhile, flails her arms and twirls the towels in her hands, twirling and whooping across the cabin with a grin growing on her face. Exhilaration courses through her veins, limbs swinging in tune of the beat and ponytail slapping against her skin in sharp stings, and a welling builds up in her chest until it explodes out of her mouth into a whoop.

The moment the drum solo takes over, both girls chant out the hook at the top of their lungs–

“Hey! Ho! Let’s go! Hey! Ho! Let’s go!”

Their voices reverberate the wood in reckless abandon, their singing following the frontman screaming through the plastic speaker, while they dance and scrub through the rest of the cabin. Loud smacks of feathers slapping dust off in tandem with the drums. Feet bouncing against squeaking floorboards. Towels sweeping against surfaces with each bass riff. Sheets and blankets snapping in the air. Clothes being folded, papers and pencils being sorted through. The smell of sweat and lemon mingling with the fresh air. The rickety cabin livens up from the inside for the first time in a while, groaning and vibrating along with them in their wild bopping, their jubilant concert for two.

With the last of their chants rolling off their tongues, they flop onto Billie’s now-clean bed the moment the song ends, more giggles bubbling up their chests while they bask in the inviting spotlessness around them. Sunlight pools through the open windows, the telltale sounds of instruments playing and children laughing in the background lulling them as an intermission.

“I actually needed that,” Billie huffs out with a growing grin, a lot more broad and child-like compared to her usual cat-like one. “Can’t deal with those bloody violin lessons anymore, what with their bloody postures, their techniques, their rule about stayin’ still–”

“Okay, before you continue,” Ramona gasps out with a winded laugh, pulling out her mp3 player from her pocket to lower the volume in sync with the speaker before the next song plays, “why did you sign up for the orchestra program– let alone for violin? I thought you’d go for something more…your vibe.”

Billie blows a long raspberry with a disgruntled frown, her forehead wrinkling up and her nose scrunching up. “M’ dad ‘n m’ Uncle Ned tried t’ get me into t’e other programs, but they were all filled up. T’e only ones left at t’e time were violin ‘n… tuba.”

Both girls blanch at the thought, their arms already protesting with dread from the weight of the brass instrument.

“Can ya ‘magine me carryin’ tha’ ‘round camp?” Billie adds on with a sputter, “ ‘specially wit’ me luggin’ it up the damn hill?”

“Okay, yeah, no,” Ramona coughs up, struggling to stifle her laughter, “that would’ve sucked.”

Billie’s grin grows the more she listens to Ramona’s giggles. She slowly rolls onto her side, her attention square on her double as she sinks down on the creaking mattress. “Yeah, Dad ‘n Uncle Ned were kinda worried ‘bout me gettin’ in, thinkin’ ‘m not gonna have fun or not get along wit’ the others, but it’s not so bad, I guess.”

The flicker of nostalgia in Billie’s eyes does not go unnoticed by Ramona.

“You’re really close with your dad, huh?” Ramona coaxes as she shifts on the bed to face the Brit.

The grin on Billie’s face briefly drops for a moment before it softens into a soft smile. “Yeah, he’s m’ best friend. We do everythin’ together.”

A small twinge pricks in Ramona’s chest, but she ignores it with a small sniffle. “Yeah? Like what?”

Pride floods Billie’s face. “We go on tours together wit’ his band. They go all over Europe ‘n the States ev’ry year ‘n take me durin’ summer term. Normally I’d go wit’ ‘em, but Uncle Ned wanted me t’ spend more time wit’ other kids this year–”

“Wait, on tour?”

“Yeah! They’re bloody big in London, but lately they’ve been gettin’ more shows here, so I’ll prob’bly be stayin’ here durin’ the summer more often.”

“Whoa…” Ramona gapes at the grinning punk, eyes filled with awe, earning a snicker from Billie.

“Yeah, but what ‘bout you?” Billie props her arm on the mattress and rests her cheek against her hand. “Wha’s yer dad like?”

Ramona’s face falters from the inquiry, that small twinge pricking in her chest again, before she glances away from Billie.

“...I don’t know my dad. My mom doesn’t really talk about him a lot.”

Billie instantly stops smiling, her chest instantly hurting from the brief light in Ramona’s eyes dimming, before she changes the subject.

“...wha’s yer mum like then?”

Ramona’s eyes flick up to Billie’s again, and Billie sighs in relief from the light gradually building up in her double’s eyes.

“She’s my best friend,” Ramona whispers with the sweetest smile Billie’s ever seen, one that stirs up a familiar image she cannot explain. “She raised me by herself, so we’ve been through a lot together.”

Ramona clears her throat and glances away, blinking away the sheen in her eyes. “I usually stay home or hang out with her at her studio, but my mom had to go on a long business trip this summer, so she and I signed up to come here.”

A small smile creeps up on Billie’s face the longer she listens. “She a musician too?”

Ramona shakes her head, her smile gradually growing with a quiet pride of her own. “She’s actually a designer. She owns her own clothing company and everything. Sometimes she’ll design some stuff for fashion shows and other commissions, but she normally focuses on regular clothes.”

Pushing herself up on the bed, Ramona sits up straight and holds her arms up to show her overalls, a bright patch of a cherry sitting on her chest area. “She actually makes some of my clothes, from the designs up until the final product. She’ll usually show me her ideas and let me pick out which ones I like before she makes them for me…”

A dull ache creeps up in Billie’s chest this time, but she smiles it through. “Kinda wish I had a mum like that…”

The nostalgia in Ramona’s smile dissolves as she stares back at the punk girl, the same bittersweet smile briefly on her face. She shifts along the mattress until her legs are crossed and tucked underneath her.

“Is your mom…?”

Billie shrugs her shoulder before pushing herself up, mirroring Ramona as she pushes her wild curls out of her face. “Never really got a clear answer ‘bout that, but I guess so. Dad doesn’ really talk ‘bout her, but my uncles and aunt do. They’d tell me a whole bunch of stories ‘bout her ‘fore I was born, basically had Dad smitten ‘n wrapped ‘round her finger ever since they met a’ one of their earliest shows before they blew up…”

A wistful smile lingers on Billie’s face, a face that Ramona instantly doesn’t like on her.

“M’ mum ended up makin’ their first band shirts ‘n stuff, ‘n she’d go to ev’ry show jus’ t’ watch Dad play his guitar solos. Eve’rybody loved her. M’ Auntie Yuri even told me once tha’ I look like her sometimes, even though ev’rybody else says I look like m’ dad.”

A familiar guitar riff quietly creeps into Billie’s ears, and she glances at the speaker with a hint of shock and sentimentality in her eyes. “Wait, hang on, can ya turn the speaker up for a secon’?”

Ramona furrows her eyebrows from bewilderment, caught off guard by the change of subject, before complying. “Yeah, sure. I really like this band too, but this one’s my mom’s favorite band. She’s been a huge fan of theirs for a long time, like ‘knowing all the members by name' kind of fan. She actually started taking me to some of their concerts recently–”

Ramona’s voice slowly grows muffled in Billie’s ears, only focusing on the recognizable guitar riff, one her dad usually plays. Then a nostalgic female voice starts to belt through the speakers, sending a rush of homesickness to her chest.

“...Auntie Yuri?” Billie mutters in disbelief before she glances down at the mp3 player in Ramona’s hand. “Can I…?”

Puzzlement flickers in Ramona’s eyes before her face slowly drops, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping before she hands Billie the player. “Wait…don’t tell me…”

A burning sensation creeps up in Billie’s throat the moment she stares down at the small screen, her eyes watering again as they linger on the all-too-familiar band name.

“My god, that’s m’ dad’s band,” Billie huffs out, a watery chuckle wavering in her voice. “Ya actually listen t’ m’ dad’s band…”

“Hang on– this is your dad’s band?!” Ramona’s thoughts race through her mind in a frenzy, the revelation from Billie a literal bombshell as she pieces the details together. Her Auntie Yuri, the frontwoman? Her Uncle Ned…the bassist? And since Billie’s last name is…Brown…

“YOUR DAD IS HOBIE BROWN?!”

As Billie scrambles off her bed and rushes to her trunk again, Ramona whips her head with a look of alarm. She clambers off the bed and rushes to Billie’s side while Billie rummages through her newly organized trunk.

“Nonono– you’re not gonna just drop that on me and not tell me more!” Ramona sputters in exasperation. “You’re telling me this whole time your dad is Hobie Brown?! Oh my god! His guitar riffs are crazy! And you basically got to see him and everybody live and up close?! Are you serious–”

Tuning out the mental spiral next to her, Billie pulls out a flat tin box and pops it open, revealing various old pictures of her and the band– as well as rendering the babbling Ramona silent with shock and awe.

“Won’t lie, was kinda disappointed tha’ nobody in m’ old cabin didn’ know ‘bout ‘em,” Billie sheepishly chuckles before gingerly tucking the photos into a stack, “but since you do, figured ya’d ‘preciate seein’ these–”

“Holy crap.” Ramona gapes at the hidden treasure in Billie’s hands, “my mom would probably freak out if she saw those…”

A snort slips vibrates through Billie’s nose before she hands the pictures to Ramona, who eagerly gazes at the faded ink. “They ain’t much, but m’ Uncle James wanted me to know the ‘whole history’ – she air-quotes with a playful eye roll– “of the band. They mainly played in Camden at some old bars and underground venues before somebody picked ‘em up.”

Ramona’s eyes twinkle with excitement and recognition, her eyes lingering onto each grainy photo before her fingers reluctantly shuffle to the next. Yuri Watanabe– the Yuri Watanabe– grinning at the roaring crowds with a mischievous grin akin to Billie’s. Drummer James Jameson with his arms raised up to the heavens with his drumsticks, blond hair whipping in the air, before swinging them down to the cymbals for a thundering drum solo. Ramona’s eyes widen at the image of bassist Ned Leeds in mid-air, soaring into the crowd for a stage dive, leather-cladded with black liner staining his cheeks.

One photo makes Ramona’s fingers freeze– a young man with wild wicks and silver piercings, skidding towards the edge of the stage on his knees with an electric guitar in hand. A glint of mischief flashes in his eyes, a familiar smirk curling up on his pierced lip, living in his element in one solid image. Billie instantly pops into Ramona’s mind when she stares at the photo, her heart soaring and welling up in overwhelming wonder.

She’s staring at the Hobie Brown– before the fame, before the sold-out concerts, living his life through the music. It feels like a shame to move on to the next photo, but Ramona reluctantly shuffles on, the printed memories getting ingrained to her mind the more she looks at them.

A couple of baby photos pop up soon after. Baby Billie fast asleep on a sleeping Yuri’s chest. The same baby Billie giggling and grabbing handfuls of the same James’s hair, the man wincing with a pained smile. The same baby Billie reaching her tiny hand out to a yellow plastic maraca in a beaming Ned’s hand.

Despite knowing the curly-haired infant in these photos is someone else, Ramona can’t help but imagine herself in them, especially the photo of a wearily content Hobie gently bouncing the baby in his arms.

Her mind briefly wanders off to her own father, the stranger with no face in her mind, the shadow who lingers in her mom’s memories. Would he have been as gentle and loving to her like Hobie to Billie? Would he look at her with the same love like Hobie to Billie?

Her hands tremble slightly as she hesitantly slides that photo behind, only to stare at the next photo right in front of her– a young Hobie Brown hugging a young woman holding up a band t-shirt. An all-too-familiar looking woman with an all-too-familiar smile.

You.

“Oh yeah, tha’s my mum,” Billie whispers beside Ramona, her eyes gleaming with awe and tenderness. “Tha’s the only one Uncle James could find o’ her. Even then though, I know she’d be the best mum if she were still wit’ us. Honestly, I don’t really believe Auntie Yuri when she says I look like her. I mean, I look pretty fit like m’ dad, but m’ mum? I think she’s the most beautiful…”

Billie trails off as soon as she glances up at the stunned Ramona, her hands trembling and crinkling up Billie’s borrowed memory. Worry floods Billie’s face before she carefully shakes her double’s shoulder. “Mon-mon? What’s wrong?”

But the moment Ramona finally answers, Billie instantly hears glass shattering in her ears.

“Mom?”

----

British Phrase of the Chapter:

Plates of meat - feet

Creamed - or creamed crackered; knackered, exhausted

Butcher's - or butcher's hook ; look

Daisies - or daisy roots ; boots

Conk - nose

Scooby doo - clue

Rabbiting - or rabbit and pork ; talk

Dog - or dog and bone ; phone

https://www.berlitz.com/blog/british-slang-lingo-words-meanings

https://www.ruf.rice.edu/~kemmer/Words04/usage/slang_cockney.html

https://www.collinsdictionary.com/us/dictionary/english-thesaurus/nose

---

Song (s) of the Chapter:

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie x y/n #dad!hobie #hyperfix wip wips #parent trap au #billie and ramona #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x you #atsv #spiderverse #Spotify

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the-kr8tor · 12 days ago

Note

ANOTHER TWINS REC

the twins put on a play for their parents! We know they go to gymnastics lessons, so just imagine their tiny little toddler feet clapping across the stage whilst they're wearing tiny pink Swan Lake tutus 🥺

Katy I think I have baby fever-

Help the baby fever is back for me too 😂 i hope you like it, lil sis! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, dad! Hobie, mum! Reader, billie and ramona au, twin au, parent au, fluff!

Navigation

You come home to a dim living room and to a makeshift stage and closed theatre curtains in place of your sofa. All the furniture are jumbled around to make space for the stage. Tugging off your shoes, and leaving your bag on the table, you eye the crafty stage. It's made out of the folding plastic table you and Hobie use during parties. Of course it's in its folded state but with pink and purple garlands taped on the sides. You remember those garlands came from your daughters’ birthday two years ago when they wanted a princess themed birthday party. It was the one time Hobie loved royalty while the girls twirl around in their handmade sparkly gowns and big shiny tiaras.

The blackout curtains are propped up by a drying rack you use to dry clothes in during the summer and to save from using the tumble dryer. And it's all clipped by the same clips you and Hobie use to keep clothes in. There's a paper garland draped over the curtains, all cut out in the shape of stars and swans— most definitely achieved with the help of their dad. The girls' bedroom string lights are on the floor, all arranged like in movie theatres with their little lights on the aisle to prevent you from falling down in the dark. Your flowery scented candles are all over the room, their flickering candle lights adding to the cozy atmosphere.

With a chuckle, you feel arms wrapped around you as hushed voices echo from behind the ‘stage.’ You're sure that you heard a muffled “mum’s ‘ere.”

“You've got your ticket, lovie?” Hobie nuzzles the side of your neck, scruff tickling your jaw.

Leaning against him, you sigh and gaze at him affectionately. “Darn, I forgot my ticket at home.” You play along, hands grasping the back of his warm hands.

“Good thing I've got an extra then.” He shows you a piece of paper that's coloured in with a sky blue crayon and the big bold letters that's written in Billie and Mona's hand that says ‘Brown production presents: Swan lake!’

You aww’d and coo at the ticket with your name on it. Which is just ‘mummy’ with a little heart beside it. “Did they do all of this?” Whispering to Hobie, you cup his cheek as he leans against your touch.

“I helped with the heavy liftin’ and cuttin’. It was all their idea though.”

“Why? Were they bored or something?” You chuckle, thumb running along his cheek.

His eyes flutter close for a second before gazing at you again. “Nah, they jus’ wanted to surprise their mum is all. Said you needed to see their dance before their actual recital.”

You thump your head on his shoulder, can't control your cuteness aggression anymore when you picture their little five year old selves asking their dad to help them build a stage for their mum.

“They're so sweet.” Your eyes start to water and Hobie has to hold your arms to steady you.

“Of course they are, love. They got it from you.” He says with fondness as he kisses the corner of your lips and you can't help but have wobbly legs from his words. “C’mon, our ballerinas are waitin’ for us.” Leading you towards the sofa, he weaves through the small chairs with the girls' stuffed toys sitting on it. Your heart swells at the sight of the homemade stuffed toys. Their favourites, a fluffy snowman with a top hat, and a pink piglet with a plastic tiara are of course sitting up front.

You sit down next to Hobie, ticket in hand while he tugs you closer to him with a hand around your waist. “Please tell me that they're in their little tutus.” Whispering to him, your hand never left his own.

“With glitter and all, lovie.” Hobie smiles and reveals the family camcorder, showing that it's already recording.

The sound of the music player starts, and the classical music echoes through the living room. The curtains part with a quick pull from a hidden rope beside Hobie. Your face is starting to hurt with all the smiling. He stomps on a button under him, and the garden lights or ‘spotlights’ turn on and shows your girls in their full swan lake getup as they pose and wait for their cue.

Their tutus are identical, both in light blue with pink glitter accents that whenever the light hits it, it turns pinkish. The tops are covered in feathers and more sparkles that adorn the cape-like top. Billie's hair is in a bun, the same with Ramona's. The only difference being that Mona's hair is adorned with butterflies with its wings fluttering with every move. While Billie has a tiny crown perched around the bun. Hobie was right about the glitters, from top to their ballet shoes, they're covered in the sparkles.

You clap enthusiastically together with Hobie. He hoots and whistles out while he records, and the girls look like they're trying not to grin on the stage as they keep their composure.

The music ramps up, and it's their cue to dance and twirl around. Their practiced steps and movement of their arms makes your heart leap with pride and happiness. That's your girls, and all the tiredness and frowns from all the practicing was all worth it when they love each minute of their ballet class. The long awaited recital is the fruit of their labour, and you're absolutely proud of them for finishing the whole summer course.

They leap into the air and strike a final pose just as when the music crescendos and ends. You hop off your seat and clap your heart out while Hobie does the same, giving your girls the standing ovation they both deserve.

“Bravo!” You yell with a grin, clapping louder and louder as they bow on stage. Billie sends a flying kiss to the crowd, while Mona gives a little twirl and a curtsy. “Encore! Encore!”

Hobie hands you a rose from the shared garden, and the two of you toss it towards them.

“Did you see the jump, mum?!” Billie barrels towards you, hugging your legs and infecting you with glitter on your slacks.

“I did! It was amazing!” You can't help but bend your knees and lift her up in your arms. She giggles and hugs you happily.

“You're both brilliant!” Hobie loudly says, excitement and pride rolling off of him like the proud dad that he is.

“We've been practicin’ a lot!” Mona follows closely behind, and Hobie immediately carries her in his arm while still recording. It earns a happy squeak from Mona. “Did you two like it?”

“Like it?” You move closer to them, hugging them both while Billie wraps herself around you like a koala bear. “I loved it!” Their eyes shine at your comment.

Mona wraps her arm around your own while still hugging her dad, and Billie nuzzles her face against Hobie's bicep while still clinging to you.

Hobie brings the camera around and films his little family together. “How ‘bout ice cream for dinner?” A round of excited squeals bounces off the walls of the Brown residence.

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hyperfix-wip · 5 months ago

Text

Webbed Together

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader/ Spider-Punk x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.9k

Author's Note: When you're still a little hungover and you force yourself to push through writing your new chapter because your brain was suddenly hit with motivation 🫠 I'd like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading and editing the hell out of this chapter for me! Credit goes to @the-kr8tor for their original characters Ramona and Billie. Also, I am not an expert on poker, so if any poker players have any comments about the accuracy of the game itself, please let me know! 🤣

Tags: Parent Trap!AU, Dad!Hobie AU, Twin!AU, Billie and Ramona!AU, Older!Hobie, Mom!Reader, Older!Reader

Chapter 5: Poker Face

<<< Chapter 4 Chapter 6>>>

SLAP!

Five cards smack against the plastic round table, and more groans and murmurs erupt from the crowd around Benny as he eagerly wraps his arms around the pile of bills, coins and other trinkets in the middle of the table.

“Looks like it’s my game again,” he taunts with a snicker while slowly raking the pot towards himself. “I thought for sure you guys were trying to win this round.”

Three older kids sitting on the round table with him only glare at him, one of them tossing their hand on the table with a disgruntled huff and another opens his wallet, instantly deflating at the sight of it being empty.

“ ‘m out.”

“Me too.”

“Damn it, I don’t have any more money either…”

“Oh c’mon!” Benny taunts the kids as they push themselves off their seats and return into the waves of kids surrounding them. “I thought you guys were gonna beat me! What happened to that, huh?”

The crowd surrounding him continues to mumble and shuffle around him, as if wary of being the next victim of his little game. Benny merely rolls his eyes in response and crosses his arms while slumping against the plastic backrest of the bench. “Fine, whatever. I got other people over here who can replace you guys. Any takers?”

“Mind if I take a whack at it?”

The crowd instantly turns to a British girl’s voice ringing in the back, and the sea of kids slowly part in confusion and intrigue while Billie slowly walks through and approaches the roundtable with Annie and Ramona peeking behind her. Billie’s signature cat-like smile curls up on her lips as she flops down on the plastic bench in front of Benny, and Ramona and Annie follow suit as they sit down at the remaining empty spots. Benny’s eyes light up while a cheeky grin of his own curls up on his face.

“Brown! Where’ve you been?” Benny calls out with an obnoxious laugh. “You just up and left during our volleyball game, what gives?”

Billie shrugs in response, but her lazy smile grows slightly strained the more she listens to him. “A mate o’ mine got ‘urt, ‘member? Got hit in the head during the game, and ‘nother mate and I helped him to the infirmary.”

Benny’s face scrunches up in confusion as he picks up the cards off the table and starts to straighten them up into a deck. “You mean that one dork with the trumpet? He really must suck at sports if he couldn’t dodge that, huh?”

Ramona instantly bristles and turns her eyes to Benny, her eyes sharpening into a hard glare. “That dork you’re talking about is still in the infirmary because of you–”

Billie quickly grabs Ramona’s shoulder before she could continue, and Ramona turns her glare to her double’s sympathetic eyes for a moment before quietly relenting and sinking down her seat with an annoyed sulk. Billie then glances back over to Benny, her impish smile faltering into a lopsided one while propping her elbow on the table.

“I’ll admit, Arnie might not look like the sporty type,” Billie replies with a neutral tone despite her carefree smile not reaching her eyes, “but that don’ mean you can hit ‘em and leave a big knot on ‘is head li’ tha’.”

“But you gotta admit, it was kinda hilarious,” Benny snickers while quickly shuffling the cards before his eyes drift back to a disgruntled Ramona. “...y’know, I didn’t know you had a sister, Brown. You got that opposite twin thing going on here–”

“Not sisters,” Both Billie and Ramona cut him off. Benny stares at them in befuddlement before glancing over at an unbothered Annie. She then narrows her eyes at him before turning her nose from him with a huff.

“...okay?” Benny finally shrugs before he starts to pass cards around one by one, slightly unnerved by the three girls giving him the cold shoulder in varying degrees, before all four of them have their hands. “Whatever, I guess. I’m getting kinda bored with five-card, so we’re gonna go with Texas Hold’em. You three okay with that?”

Billie rolls her eyes as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her beaten up studded wallet and opens it up. “Whatever works, I can play either. Limit or no limit?”

“No limit, but everybody’s only been betting money,” Benny replies with a bored groan while lifting his cards by the corner slightly, a small smirk curling up on his lips before he lets the cards go flat on the table and looks up at Billie.

Benny then glances over at Ramona, who furrows her brows while darting her eyes around the table with a wavering frown. His eyes instantly light up at the flicker of weakness.

“Hey, uh… not-spiky Brown?”

Ramona instantly drops the uncertainty on her face before she looks at him with an irritated deadpan.

“When are you putting in your bet?”

“...what?”

Billie leans towards Ramona’s side and gently taps at the middle of the table. “Just drop half of what I put on the table,” Billie whispers to her double, “And every round we start after you basically put in half of what I put before we start.”

“...oh, like that small blind, big blind thing you and Annie were talking about earlier?”

“Yep, exactly.”

“But how come you’re the one putting in more money?”

“Bloke’s the dealer, and whoever is in the left of him is the small blind, and the one after is the big blind–”

“Okay, wait, hold up–” Benny barks up a laugh of disbelief as Ramona nods along to Billie’s explanation. “You sure you wanna let the newbie play in the game? She’ll probably lose all of her money if she’s not careful…not like I’m gonna stop her though.”

Ramona narrows her eyes at Benny again before she tosses two quarters from her coin pouch and glances down to peek at her hand with a slight frown. “I get the gist of it, like the hand rankings and all. It’s just… I only watched my mom play poker sometimes.”

A wicked gleam shines on Benny’s eyes as the crowd around the players start to boo and laugh, but Billie instantly slams her fist against the plastic table and glares around the crowd until they quiet down to disgruntled groans.

“If you get the basics of it, you should be okay,” Annie reassures Ramona. “Just gotta play a few rounds to get it, y’know?”

“She’ll probably lose all of her money before she finally gets it though,” Benny mutters under his breath with a quiet snicker. Billie is uncharacteristically unbothered by Benny’s snide comments as she clears her throat and glances up from her cards.

“C’mon, girlies,” Billie sighs with a scrunched up nose and a slight pout. “Le’s jus’ start the game. He ain’t worth getting miffed over.”

Annie rolls her eyes with a huff before she tosses a dollar onto the table, starting the first round. “Fine, call. Are we just gonna play until someone wins the whole pot, or is there a set amount of rounds?”

“We keep going until one of us wins the whole pot,” Benny snickers as he tosses two dollars onto the table. Ramona hesitantly glances back down at her hand before sighing and tossing her cards to the middle of the table. Billie rolls her eyes soon after, “Jus’ hurry up ‘n drop the flops.”

Benny flips three cards onto the table– seven of hearts, six of clubs, four of clubs. “Don’t be like that, Brown. It’s just a game, remember?”

Billie’s eye twitches slightly as she tosses another bill to match Benny’s play. “Games should be fun, Benny. ’s not fun for e’ryone if you’ve been trash-talkin’ the whole time.”

Benny rolls his eyes while Annie clicks her tongue and folds, tossing her cards towards the middle of the table.

“Why’re you being sensitive, Brown?” he snorts before dropping another two bills onto the table and flipping another card, four of hearts. “It’s not like it’s actually hurting anybody.”

“Somebody did end up getting hurt, though,” Annie grumbles while pushing her glasses up. Billie gently nudges Annie’s foot with her own underneath the table. Annie glances up with a quirked eyebrow, but as soon as Annie meets Billie’s sympathetic smile, Annie hesitates before sighing and crossing her arms against her chest.

Billie’s soft eyes drop to a bored deadpan while she instantly tosses three bills onto the growing pot. “I ain’t bein’ sensitive,” Billie retorts as she pulls out more crumbled bills and dumping out a stream of coins onto the table. “I jus’ don’ like arseholes."

“If you’re gonna call me an asshole, at least say it right,” Benny rolls his eyes as he matches Billie’s bet and flips the last card for the round, eight of spades. “You probably shouldn’t bet so much on the first round.” Benny then flips his hand, revealing a four and a nine of diamonds. His mouth curls up into a smug smirk. “Three of a kind. Not the best hand, but it works out just fine for me.”

Billie only gives a lazy smile and tilts her head before she slowly reveals her own hand. “Straight– three, four, five, six, seven. Not the best hand, but it got the job done.”

Benny shrugs while Billie gathers the pot for the round. “Not bad, not bad. It’s just the first round, though. We have a long way to go before this game finishes.”

Benny’s eyes then dart between the disgruntled Annie and the pensive Ramona before adding “Well, it might finish a little faster if it’s only Brown and me playing to win.”

Annie’s jaw instantly clenches at the taunt, and Ramona’s eyes sharpen. A smug grin curls up on Benny’s face once he sees the reactions he wanted.

“C’mon, it’s just for fun,” Benny snickers while quickly passing the next hands. “You guys don’t need to get your panties in a twist.”

Annie’s face pinches up in disgust as she subtly glances at her hand before tossing two dollars and a couple quarters to raise the bet. “Beating you would probably be worth it, with or without you having to do anything the winner says.”

“That’s if you girls can beat me,” Benny scoffs before matching Annie. “I mean, besides Brown, you two would probably back out before we get to higher stakes.”

Ramona rolls her eyes. “Don’t get too cocky now.”

Three new cards get flipped onto the middle of the table– jack of hearts, ten of clubs, four of clubs.

“I only needed one round to know how you guys work,” Benny taunts with a shit-eating grin while he sets the deck of cards down. “You–” he points at Ramona– “are just a newbie, so you’ll get lost the further we play. Redhead on my right–” his finger darts to Annie– “gets annoyed easily, so she’ll probably get triggered into making bigger bets than she’ll bargain for. And Brown?”

Billie tosses a couple more bills and quarters, raising the bet for the pot. Benny only snorts in amusement in response. “She’s a little more aggressive with her play, taking more risks and relying more on luck than anything.”

As soon as Annie knocks twice on the table, Benny tosses some more bills, raising the bet even higher. “But sometimes luck isn’t enough to win.”

Ramona’s face pinches up at the higher bet in hesitation before tossing some bills, and Benny snickers as he flips the next card onto the table– six of spades.

Billie, however, slowly sucks on her teeth out of boredom as she matches Benny’s bet. “I dunno,” Billie shrugs, her nimble fingers tapping on the plastic surface while continuing to stare Benny down, “Dad’s always says I was his lucky poppet. Things jus’ work out for me in th’ end.”

“Oh god,” Benny rolls his eyes as he flips a jack of spades onto the table, “are you that much of a daddy’s girl? That’s such a lame thing your dad would call you–”

SLAM!

All eyes turn to Billie as her fist trembles a bit against the table. Her eyes stare daggers at the boy in front of her and her mouth curls into a scowl. The crowd behind her backs away from the quick outburst.

“Shut yer trap,” Billie nearly snarls at Benny. “My dad's not lame.”

Annie’s eyes widen at her friend before one of her hands reaches out to gently unfurl Billie’s fist. At the same time, Ramona’s own eyes turn cold as she stares down an unapologetic Benny.

Benny holds his hands up in surrender, but a wicked gleam glints in his eye. “Noted. No bringing up dads.”

“You suck, y’know that?” Annie mutters under her breath, flipping her hand of a four of hearts and an eight of diamonds out in the open.

Benny only smirks before he flips his own cards– a ten of hearts and a four of diamonds– and his grin grows even more as Billie clicks her tongue and tosses her cards to the middle. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game–”

A hand quietly cuts him off when it props itself on Benny’s left arm, and he glances up in confusion, only for his eyes to meet Ramona holding up her hand in the air. One of the cards was a jack of diamonds.

“Three of a kind,” Ramona echoes Benny’s words before tossing her hand down onto the plastic table. “Not the best hand, but it works out just fine for me.”

Benny’s face drops as Ramona gently nudges his arm away from the cash on the table with a straight face before pushing it towards herself, all the while the crowd surrounding the four players murmur in waves.

“Benny lost two rounds in a row?”

“Newbie just basically stole his thunder–”

“Guess karma just bit him in the butt–”

Annie stares straight at Ramona in disbelief while Billie sends a sideways glance to her double with a slight smirk on her lips. “Nice one, Mon-mon…”

A small frown surfaces on Benny’s face for the first time, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, before he slowly grabs the cards off the table and shuffles them into the deck.

“Beginner’s luck,” he grumbles under his breath while Ramona carefully flattens out some of the crumbled bills in front of her. “We still got the rest of the game here…”

—

The game continues on, the series of rounds quickly drawing more eyes onto the table. Shuffling, dealing, drawing, money betting, cards tossing. First Benny rakes in the pot, then Billie, then Benny, then Annie– the pot keeps shifting back and forth between the players, their money growing and depleting with each play, tension gradually growing on the table with many taunts from Benny and retorts from the girls, each word growing more charged than the last.

The crowd shuffles and grows more invested in the game, each round pulling more spectators than potential players as everyone watches over the four players like vultures. A young boy with a slight bump on his forehead struggles to maneuver himself through the waves of kids, confusion flooding into his eyes before he finally pushes himself into the middle, coming face to face with his three new friends pushing stacks of coins and bills into the middle of the growing pot one by one against the smug lone boy in the game.

Arnold turns his head to a shorter boy looking over Billie’s shoulder, gasping at the growing pot as Billie flicks her wrist and lets a stack of dollar bills flutter to the middle of the table.

“Hey,” Arnold quietly taps the boy’s shoulder with a frown, “what the heck’s going on?”

The boy glances at Arnold with an irritated huff, his eyes briefly darting to the large knot on Arnold’s head, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the game. “The older guy Benny said that whoever beats him in a game of poker can get whatever they want from him, and these three girls jumped into the game. They lasted way longer than any of the other kids who played him, so right now everybody is just waiting to see who’ll win in the end.”

Arnold’s eyes almost bulge out of his sockets as he looks back at the game, a sense of dread pooling in his stomach, before he frantically shuffles himself and mutters his apologies until he approaches Ramona from behind.

“Ramona!”

Ramona looks over her shoulder with a puzzled furrow to her brows before her eyes widen with shock. “Arnold? What’re you doing here?”

The rest of the players look up from the sudden interruption, Annie glancing up from her hand before doing a double take and Billie giving a brief unbothered smile and wave to Arnold, before a loud snort breaks through the quiet murmurs of the crowd. All three of the girls turn their sharpened glares at the snickering Benny while he points at the bump on Arnold’s head.

“Oh my god, what happened to your head, dude? It looks like something’s gonna pop outta there!”

Benny cackles a little more while the crowd slowly backs away from the three girls glaring daggers at him.

“You did that, you little dipshi–”

“Annie, wait–”

“What? Don’t try to give him a pass, Arnie! That was mean, and you know it!”

“Annie, Benny’s just bein’ an arse–”

“You’re just gonna let this slide, Bills?! He’s been talking crap nonstop the whole game–”

“He’s doin’ tha’ to trip all o’ us up–”

“Gotta be kidding– Ramona, help me out here?”

Ramona continues to send an icy glare at Benny as she crosses her arms against her chest. “He’s gonna keep talking crap no matter what. The only reason we all jumped in in the first place is to beat him and get him to apologize to Arnold.”

A scoff slips through Benny’s lips as his eyes land on Ramona’s. “Try saying that when you quit folding and win some more rounds–”

“Benny,” Billie cuts him off with a curt voice. “How ‘bout you win a couple more rounds agains’ me ‘stead of pickin’ on Mon-mon? ‘M sure you still wanna win back some of the cash you lost.”

Benny’s smug smirk drops into a slight scowl once he turns his attention to the British girl in front of him, his jaw slightly clenched as his hand grabs a handful of his winnings.

“I still have some cash on me.”

“Then you bette’ get ‘em ready, ‘cuz I ain’t leavin’ ‘til I win th’ whole t’ing.”

Sparks crackle in the air as the two stare each other down across the table, and Arnold nervously looks between Ramona and Annie to stop Billie, only for the two other girls to glare at Benny too.

Benny lets out another scoff before a smirk grows on his face. “How about this? Since everybody’s itching to win, how about we make things interesting.”

He then tosses the last of his money into the pot before flipping the last card onto the plastic table top.

“Since everybody’s practically tapped out on their cash, we’ll add something else to the pot. I’m already betting myself doing something for you guys, so you three gotta add something too. And if you guys lose, not only do I take everything, you guys also have to do a punishment that I choose.” All three of the girls hesitate at the new stakes, making Benny snicker with a sly smirk. “Unless you girls are fine with giving up all of your money to me, but you’re already in too deep.”

Billie instantly bristles from Benny’s taunt, her hand itching to curl into a fist again. She knows the little bastard is just trying to trigger them, she knows that, but the idea of him suggesting this, whether a bluff or not, doesn’t sit well in her stomach. Billie gives a sideways glance to Annie, who has the same unsure frown as she glances back at Billie. For a moment, both girls wonder if they should risk it.

A small clatter suddenly breaks through the silence, and everyone turns to a reluctant Ramona as she slowly puts her mp3 player on top of the pot.

“Ramona?” Arnold quickly grabs her shoulders with wide eyes. “What’re you doing? I thought you said your mom gave you that–”

“I-it’s fine,” Ramona quietly reassures him with a slight smile, “it’s just music. I-I can just wait it out until camp’s over…” Despite her calm demeanor, her long fingers anxiously fidget and pick at her cuticles to avoid reaching for the small device back. Ramona’s gapped teeth slowly worries her bottom lip, and a slight ringing slowly creeps up in her ears the longer she looks down at the pot.

Billie instantly notices, her brows furrowing more as she glances up to Ramona struggling not to regret her decision, before letting out a loud sigh and reaching behind her neck. Her hands slowly pull away with an end of a red braided string in each before the rest of the necklace slides out from the hem of her shirt. A black plastic pick with some scratches hangs in the middle before Billie carefully coils it down on top of the pot with a determined face.

“My lucky pick. If Mon-mon’s willing to bet on it, then I should too…”

Ramona stares up at Billie with a flicker of shock and relief, a slight smile curling up on her lips, before glancing over at Annie as she hesitantly puts a small beaded bracelet onto the table.

“Y’know, you guys could’ve put a shoe or something in the pot,” Annie mutters with a sheepish pout. “Didn’t think you guys were gonna go with the dramatic movie moment on me…”

“Eh,” Billie shrugs with a lopsided grin, “ ‘m willin’ to put my quids in for this.”

Arnold continues to stare at his friends with bewilderment, his face pinching up with a worried look, before Ramona gently taps him in the arm with an encouraging smile.

“Don’t worry, you’re our friend. This is the least we could do.”

Arnold stares down at his friend with a flicker of awe and gratitude in his eyes, but a loud scoff instantly breaks the sentimental moment.

“Are we done with the cringey waterworks?” Benny huffs with an unimpressed frown as he crosses his arms. “We still have a game to play.”

All eyes turn to Benny, all three of the girls staring him down with a deadpan.

“Can you not read the room?” Annie rolls her eyes before glancing down at the last set of community cards on the table.

Ten of clubs. Three of hearts. Jack of clubs. Eight of spades. Queen of hearts.

With a deep sigh, Annie quickly flips her hand– eight of hearts and an eight of diamonds.

Billie quietly follows suit with her hand– king of hearts and ace of diamonds– before glancing back up at Benny with a slight smirk. “A three of a kind ‘n a straight. You gotta admit, ‘s a hard matchup, innit? Maybe I’ll have you on your hands and knees in front of everybody while you apologize to poor Arnie or sumt’in’.”

Benny nods along with a slight pout as he stares at their hands on the table. “Wow, Brown, you guys are good…”

Billie’s face falters from the sarcasm in his voice before Benny flips his hand with a flick of a wrist. A king of hearts and an ace of diamonds.

“But not good enough to beat a flush, huh?”

Benny then looks up at the quiet Ramona as she glances down at her hand with a pensive frown, and a wicked grin curls up on his lips. “What’s wrong, newbie? Is your hand not good enough? Are you too scared to show your cards and admit defeat?”

Ramona looks up at the gloating Benny with a slightly bored stare before looking away and grabbing her mp3 player. Benny’s face drops in confusion before he angrily reaches for her hand and tightly grips it.

“Hey, what’re you doing?! Can’t you see I won–”

“Y’know,” Ramona calmly cuts Benny off, “every time I watched my mom play poker with my uncle, she’d always give me the same advice. She’d tell me to play only a few hands, to only take risks on hands that give me a strong gut feeling.”

Everyone’s eyes are on Ramona, confused mutters and intrigued chatters slowly surrounding the table. Benny snorts as he tries to yank the mp3 player out of her hand.

“Okay, what does your mom have anything to do with this–”

“My mom also told me to always keep my cool and to only bet high when it matters most.”

Ramona slowly flips her cards with her free hand, and waves of gasps as chatters instantly erupt in the crowd. Annie’s eyes almost break through her glasses, Arnold’s jaw drops, and Billie lets out a loud laugh of disbelief as she grabs her necklace back.

“Bloody hell, Mon-mon…”

The last person to look down on Ramona’s hand was Benny, and his face slowly pales once his eyes land on the king of clubs and the ace of clubs.

“I’m not sure how strong a flush is,” Ramona shrugs as she continues to stare at Benny with a small smile, “but I’m pretty sure it’s not as strong as a royal flush, right?” She then pulls her hand back out of his grip before sliding her mp3 player back in her pocket and turning her head to Billie and Annie. “We should probably split the pot between the three of us. I’d feel bad taking your guys' money.”

Ramona then turns back to the stunned Benny before crossing her arms against her chest. “Now, I’m not gonna make you get on your hands and knees in front of everybody–”

“Wha– Mon-mon, why?!”

“But I do want you to apologize to Arnold,” Ramona continues on, ignoring Billie’s protest. “Not only that, but I want you to apologize to everybody you made fun of. The way you talk to people is not cool, and people aren’t going to want to hang out with you if you keep being mean to them.”

Benny slowly lifts his eyes from the winning hand to Ramona, still astounded by the unexpected turn of events, before his face slowly flushes into a deep scowl and he angrily tackles Ramona down to the dirt ground.

“You cheated!” Benny roars at a screaming Ramona, struggling to pin her down while Ramona shoves her hand against his face to get off her. “You cheated! There’s no way you’d get a royal flush–”

“Mon-mon!” Billie yells out before jumping on top of Benny and wrapping her arms around his neck to yank him off. “Arnie! Annie! Get a counselor now!”

The crowd of kids scream and cheer around the fight breaking out in front of their eyes. Arnold hesitates and takes a step forward towards his fighting friends, worry and fear plaguing his eyes, but Annie quickly grabs his arm and tugs him away.

“Arnie, c’mon! We gotta get them help!”

Arnold stumbles behind Annie as she pulls him away, and he looks over his shoulder to the fight with dread in his eyes before relenting and quickly following the short redhead.

More whoops and clamors of ‘fight!’ echo around the three kids, dirt flying and clinging to their clothes the more they wrestle each other. Ramona screams and writhes underneath the stockier Benny, yelping out in pain when his hand grabs a handful of her dark coils and harshly yanks them.

“You cheated! You definitely cheated–”

“I didn’t cheat!” Ramona cries out while tears well up in her eyes from pain. “Get off me! I didn’t cheat!”

“Get off her, you stupid sod!” Billie screams as she kicks against the back of Benny’s legs, and Benny yells out in response before attempting to throw her off his back. Billie wraps her arms around his neck tighter in a vice grip while she throws her head back with as much of her weight as possible to pull him off Ramona.

Ramona cries out more as Benny yanks her hair again before she starts slapping her hands against his arms and tries to kick him off. “Get the hell off me, you asshole!”

Her palms sting with each slap, her scalp pricking from each tug and her eyes flooding with tears, until her hand accidentally slaps Benny in the middle of his face. A scream of pain erupts from Benny, and Billie finally yanks him off and throws him down onto the ground with her. Billie and Benny quickly roll around the dirt, Benny struggling to push her off and Billie refusing to let him near Ramona again, before a piercing whistle breaks through the screams of the crowd.

“WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON HERE?!”

The crows instantly disperses in a bedlam as an elderly woman rushes up to them with Arnie and Annie right behind her. A brief moment of relief flickers in Ramona’s eyes as Billie gets shoved off Benny with an ‘oof’, but that flicker quickly disappears when Benny gets up and runs over to her with tears in his eyes.

“Grandma!” Benny cries out to the counselor, and the rest of the kids’ faces grow pale.

“Grandma?” Ramona echoes with dread as everyone stares at the blubbering Benny hugging his grandmother, and Billie drops her head with a defeated groan.

“Ah shite.”

----

British Phrase of the Chapter:

Quids in - Someone who's "quids in" has invested in an opportunity which is probably going to benefit them massively.

https://www.businessinsider.com/british-slang-that-will-confuse-anybody-who-didnt-grow-up-in-the-uk-2017-11#quids-in-66

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie x y/n #dad!hobie #parent trap au #billie and ramona #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #the kr8tor

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