#she was like oh I’m a tourist? I’ll show you tourist

[sunflowerscottie]

obsessed with rio just, like, chilling on the couch reading a magazine during the second trial

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose V (lost Sinclair!daughter reader AU)

Hi everyone, this is the final part of my Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family.

You can find part I here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, killer!reader, mentions of guilt, violence, murders, blood, some sort of dark angst/comfort

You quite enjoyed your summer break in Ambrose. You loved to sculpt with Vincent, you loved to watch your dad work on a car and to have him show you things, you loved to wander around with Lester. You loved to play with Jonesy as well. Everything felt good. You never slept so well in years, because you were finally feeling safe enough to fully relax.

You hadn’t asked about the tourists anymore because you didn’t have enough strength for more drama for the moment. And whenever people were coming around, the brothers made sure you were busy somewhere else in the town or with Lester. You pretended you didn’t notice anything. You just wanted to be happy. 

And for the moment, your own desire to kill has quieted down. You were still feeling sick from the murder of your mother.

The brothers didn’t notice anything amiss; apart from the fact they still hadn’t heard the sound of your voice, you were once again their ray of sunshine. You were making them so full of joy. The twins were talking, late in the night, about the legacy once again. They hadn’t thought they could resume their plans on this matter. They were so relieved.

However they were a little bit concerned about your adoptive father. They were certain that even if the man wasn’t doing too well for the moment, at some point he would want to get “his daughter” back. The twins had no idea how to cut him out of your life without killing him. Bo would love to murder him - out of jealousy - but he knew that you would know it one day, and he didn’t want to upset you that way. Both your mothers already died after all…

You were having a snack in Bo’s garage while he was taking care of a new car. You were sucking on the chocolate that dripped on your fingers, as you were listening to the music your father put on. You were both enjoying each other's presence even if you weren’t interacting directly. Bo was always a lot more at ease when you were in the same room than him or at least in his line of vision. He was still traumatised; he lost you once, and he promised himself it would never happen again.

You slightly jumped when you felt your phone buzzing next to you. You grabbed it and frowned when you saw it was your adoptive father. Bo noticed the look on your face.

“What’s up, baby?” he asked you as he came closer to you. You put your phone on your lap so you could sign

“He is wondering where I am.” you replied, knowing Bo would understand who was the “he”. You father rolled his eyes and groaned

“Oh so he remembered he's supposed to look after ya?” he ironized and your crossed your arms on your chest “Don’t pout” he hummed and kissed the top of your head

“I’ll have to tell him I’m here. I can’t lie to him about that. Just be nice to him, okay? Things are difficult and… And he won’t be happy about the situation because…” you trailed off

“Because what?”

“Well before mom got sick, she discovered I was chatting with you and Vince and Les, and she was worried about me. She wanted to call the cops on you” you explained. Bo didn’t show any emotion but you read in his eyes that he was quite concerned about such news

“Luckily she got sick then” he commented out loud before realising it “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean it like that” he quickly added as you looked away. Luck had really nothing to do with it, you thought.

“Anyway, I will tell him I’m here. And he’ll probably come get me. I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t call the police or anyone” you promised as you got up and left the garage

You needed to be alone to write to your adoptive father: “Hey dad, are you feeling better? I didn’t really have anywhere to go so I went back to Ambrose. Everyone is very nice to me and Bo is inviting you over (so please don’t call the police, they really didn’t do anything wrong!). Will you bring me back home?”

The answer was almost instantaneous: “Yes, I will. I won’t call the police because I shouldn’t have asked you to go away in the first place. Love you, I’m sorry for everything”

You were relieved, knowing he wouldn’t be lying to you, not after what happened, not when he had failed his mission of taking care of you.

You came back home and settled at the kitchen table, thinking about what to do next. You didn’t want to leave Ambrose but you wouldn’t be allowed to stay here. You tried to busy yourself on some silly games on your phone but soon enough you grew bored. You were feeling quite upset as well. For the first time in weeks, you wanted to kill someone. You needed to express yourself in another way than sculpting or drawing. You needed to take out your frustration on someone, but there was no one to kill here.

Vincent opened the basement door, in need of some water when he saw you. He quickly saw you weren’t your usual happy self. He put an hand on your shoulder for you to look up at him before signing:

“What’s wrong?”

“My adoptive father will come get me. I think he should be here tonight” you replied

“Do you want to go?” Vincent tilted his head to the head, you quickly shook your head

“No, but I can’t really do anything about it”

You could tell that Vincent wanted to say something but didn’t dare and he simply sadly nodded his head at you.

“How about we make something together? Would it cheer you up?” he offered, which made you smile

“I’d love to”

As you focused on the art you were making with Vincent, you forgot about your adoptive father and you forgot about the time. Your need to kill quietened down, but was still there, waiting for you to be on your own to eat you up alive once again.

You were about to finish a sculpture of Jonesy you intended to offer to Lester, when you heard two vehicles coming into Ambrose. You looked at the window, but didn’t recognise your adoptive father’s car. There were lost “tourists” who were following behind Lester’s truck. Vincent tensed and looked at the clock before asking you:

“When do you think your adoptive father will come here?”

“I’m not sure, soon I guess” you shrugged but you saw the panic rising into Vincent’s eye

“Alright. I let you finish the sculpture without me. We have work to do. Stay here, please.” Vincent replied

“What work?” you frowned

“Promise me you will stay here” Vincent asked, firmly signing each work. You understood he was pretty serious about it

“Of course, I promise you, uncle” you finally replied as you sat back down and watched Vincent leave the room and go back into the basement.

You were about to go back to your sculpture when you heard people violently arguing. The “tourists” didn’t seem to be too happy with Bo. Lester was quick to intervene as well. You watched the scene of a man pushing Lester to the ground, and Bo hitting the said man. Your eyes widened at such a display of violence. You nibbled on your bottom lip. Were your family killers, or was it just bad people disrupting the peace of Ambrose?

You saw that things were getting pretty rough between the three tourists and your father and uncle. You wondered where Vincent was, and almost got into the basement to look for him… Until you saw your adoptive father’s car coming into view. He really couldn’t have arrived at the worst moment. He stopped in front of the garage and tried to put himself between Bo and the man, and to appease the situation. Bo asked him to go away, you guessed, according to his gestures. And your adoptive father refused.

You were too far away to see everything, and even more when they seemed to come more into Bo’s garage. You just knew that at some point someone screamed. Two tourists ran away, Lester ran after them with what seemed like a knife, and Bo was covered in blood. You had to stop yourself from leaving the house. You wanted to help, and you wanted to be the one covered in blood. However, you never broke a promise you made to your family before, so you had to be better, you had to stay inside. You didn’t know where your adoptive father was anymore and you grew worried. How could things go so badly after such happy weeks in Ambrose?

Bo grabbed a rifle and was about to go after the tourists when he received a massive hit on the head from behind and fell on the ground. You saw your adoptive father with some mechanic tool in his hands.

You couldn’t stop yourself this time. You took the gun Bo was hiding under his armchair and ran to the garage. You had to stop them, you had to do something about it. You couldn’t scream or you would have. Your legs brought you in front of the two men with such speed, as the adrenaline was pumping into your veins. Before you knew it, you aimed at them.

Your adoptive father who was ready to hit Bo stopped his movement as he noticed you and he brought his hands in front of him. Bo was still on the ground, pretty disoriented by the hit he received on the head. He looked up and saw you. You had never looked so much like a Sinclair before. He knew you were his daughter then; he wouldn’t even be disappointed if you decided to kill him.

You were perfect.

“What are you doing? Shoot him, shoot him! He killed the guy, and he wants to kill us all. Your mother was right, they are murderers!” you adoptive father yelled as you eyes moved between him and Bo

“I won’t hurt ya, baby” Bo whispered to you “Everythin’s alright” he continued, trying to sooth you. And one thing was certain, you wouldn’t stand to never hear him talking to you like that anymore.

You looked back at your adoptive father, tears in your eyes. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were about what you were going to do, about what you did to his wife, but with the gun in your hands, you couldn’t.

You shooted and closed your eyes. His body loudly fell to the ground and you shivered. You looked down at Bo and helped him to get up.

He quickly hugged you before gently rocking you, so you could calm down. You didn’t cry in his embrace, you felt at peace. You felt like everything was as it always should have been.

“Ya alright?” Bo whispered to you as he cupped your face into his bloody hands. You nodded and sniffed.

Screams resonated from the House of Wax and you moved from Bo. You were ready to help, you were ready to kill some more but Bo grabbed your wrist. He softly took the gun from you and kissed the palm of your hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. Les and Vince are taking care of the two others. Ya can rest now. Ya did amazin’. Ya saved me, ya saved the family” he hummed, pride shining into his eyes. “Told ya everythin’ was gonna be alright,” he added as he brought you back against him once again.

You couldn’t fully relax, not knowing if your uncles were doing alright. You kept your face towards the House of Wax, waiting for them. Soon enough, you saw them pulling two bodies out of the museum and you felt the adrenaline leaving you.

“I need to sit down” you signed to your dad who quickly nodded. He opened Lester’s truck and sat you down at the passenger seat, as it was the most comfy place he could offer for the moment. He didn’t want you to see the body of your adoptive father either.

“Stay here, I’ll be back soon” he murmured. He needed to let his brothers know about what happened. 

Soon enough, they were all around you. You quickly scanned them, to make sure they were unharmed. They didn’t really know what to tell you. They were happy, of course, but they weren’t too sure how you were feeling. You killed the man who raised you for years, after all.

Truth to be told, you used to feel guilty because of the death of his wife that was driving him crazy, but now they were back together. You felt free. You felt ready to kill again, to kill for the family business.

“Bo told us ya did the right thin’” Lester told you and you gave him a soft smile “Feelin’ all good?” he asked and you nodded.

“You don’t have to feel bad for having… killed him, you know. You protected your real father, you protected us. You did what you had to do” Vincent signed to you, even if Bo and Lester weren’t too sure that reminding you you killed him was a good idea. To their surprise, you relaxed into the seat and nodded again.

“I am a Sinclair” you said in a rough voice you hadn’t used in years.

--

Taglist : @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210 ; @slushi-chan

[greynatomy]

so american

mapi león x reader

pretend that spain drives on the left side of the road. some of the italicized dialogue is supposed to be the character speaking spanish

happy two years of writing woso fics to me!! thank you for reading!

———

Who knew going to Barcelona on a very last minute decision was the best choice you have ever made?

—

Coming off of an end of your United States tour high, you wanted to take some time for yourself after spending months with thousands of people. You’ve traveled the world doing these shows, but never had the time to enjoy these places. 

Touching down in Barcelona, you picked up your rental and made your way to your home for the next couple of weeks.

The first few days were nothing exciting. The beaches were beautiful, same with all the structures. You were very relaxed.

After a week of staying cooped up in your house, you thought it was time to see what Spain has to offer and you were not disappointed at all. You were a tourist and went to all the tourist spots, camera hanging around your neck. You were having the time of your life.

Wanting to end the day on a high, you saw a club you wanted to go to. Seeing there was a waitlist, you had your assistant call and hopefully get you on the list for tonight. 

Fortunately, she was able to.

Making your way to the bar, you had to squeeze through the people a bit.

“Vodka cran please!” 

Getting a nod, you turn away from the bar, scanning the whole place. There was a bit of everything, make-outs, shotguns, dancing, all on their own little groups, no one left behind. You felt like a bit of an outcast, but not for long.

“Hola, bebé.”

Turning to your left, you’re met with an arm littered with tattoos and a neck, another tattoo right on the center.

“Looks can be deceiving. Hmm.” 

“Like what you see?”

“Maybe.” You shrug, grabbing the drink placed in front of you. Looking up, you make eye contact, keeping it as you take a sip through your straw.

“You understand?” She was taken aback that you understood her. You shrug again, playing the mysterious card. She smirks at you, taking you by surprise when she drags you onto the dance floor.

The whole night was a blur, the next thing you remember is waking up to the sun shining through the curtains, the smell of something cooking in the air.

Making your way out of the unfamiliar room, still dressed in the clothes from your night out, seeing a person with a familiar arm littered with tattoos by the stove.

“Hola.”

Turning around, Mapi is met with your figure. “Ah, bebé! I made some breakfasts. Come sit.” You sat down awkwardly, not remembering much that happened after leaving the club. Mapi, seeing the look on your face, speaks up, “We didn’t sleep together.”

She thought that was the reason you looked uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the case.

“That’s a shame.” Her eyes almost popped out of their socket. “I’m just uncomfortable with wearing the same clothes from last night.”

“Oh!” She gets up, grabbing your arm and pulling you back into a different room. “Choose anything you’d like and the shower is over there if you want. I’ll leave you to it.”

You noticed how much clothes Mapi owned, excited to ‘borrow’ a few. After a very quick shower, the weather being a bit chilly, you grab the hoodie hanging off the back of a chair and put it on, walking out of the room.

Hearing footsteps coming closer behind her, Mapi turns but freezes at the sight of you. Her clothes pretty much almost swallows you whole.

“Bonita.” Mapi said softly to herself, not intending for you to hear. 

“You said to pick anything.” You shrug, going over to sit next to her.

There was a bit of an awkward silence that filled the room.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my home.”

“Oh! No, not at all. I’m kinda glad you did.”

The awkwardness went away pretty quickly, talking like you’ve both known each other for a while. She drove you to all her favorite spots, bringing you to her favorite restaurants. before you both know it, it was time for you to go home.

Spending the past couple of weeks with Mapi was something you would never regret. You went to a couple of games incognito, she spent some days at your place, it was like you were both in your own little bubble, not wanting it it be popped.

It’s been two months since you got back home. You and Mapi haven’t lost contact, you’re still very much obsessed with her.

You just put on some comfy clothes after getting out of the shower when your doorbell rang. ‘Who the hell rings a doorbell an hour before midnight?’ you thought. Looking through the peephole, you couldn’t believe it.

Throwing the door open, you launch yourself into their arms, holding them tight.

“What are you doing here?” You mumble, voice muffled into her neck.

“It’s a surprise and you’re surprised.”

She was staying for two weeks, still recovering from an injury. You’ve gone back and created your little bubble and loved every second of it.

You’re driving to your destination, wanting to take a little trip.

“You’re so pretty.” Mapi mentioned, a hand resting on your thigh.

“What?”

“Wearing my clothes.”

Heat rises up to your cheeks, not able to stop how flustered you are. She sat in the passenger seat, feet propped up on the dash. It almost felt like you were part of a romance film.

It was a few days later, Mapi had gone back to Spain and you were hanging out at your house with a couple of people. There were games, food and drinks. You were a bit drunk and when you were drunk, you get talkative and giggly, even texting Mapi.

—

—

“Did- did you know that Ma-Mapi plays soccer. Wait, no, foot bowl.”

You were hanging off of your friend as she tries to get you in bed.”

“Yes I do.”

“Oh! This is Mapi’s. She told me I can keep it.” You were now burying your face into a hoodie, taking deep breaths in. “Doesn’t smell like her anymore though.” You pouted, tears edging to fall out of your eyes.

“Okay! How about you go to sleep and you can call Mapi when you wake up?”

You were already out cold when she drapes the blanket over you. Walking back downstairs, she’s met by the rest of the group.

“How was she?”

“She’s out like a light and guess what?”

“What?”

“Talking about Mapi again.”

“Of course.”

—

Two weeks into the international leg of your tour, you’ve done something that only a few people knew. Having just released an album earlier this year, another song wouldn’t be expected so soon, but here you are on stage, talking to the audience.

“Okay. So as you all know, this tour is all about me spilling everything to you guys.” The whole room breaks out in cheers. “And since I am already spilling everything, I might as well spill some more!”

“As none of you know,” Everyone laughs. “This city of Barcelona has become one of my favorite places that I have ever visited because… I might’ve met someone here.” The crowd cheers. “And they may or may not be in the audience tonight.” The crowd cheers even louder. “Anyway, this was the easiest song I have ever written because, well you’ll know why once you hear it.”

In the crowd, Mapi was with the whole team of Barça, surprised with the little soft launch you did introducing a new song. You’ve both talked about possibly going public soon, but didn’t realize that you were going to do it at your concert in front of all your fans.

You grab your guitar from one of the stage hands, stepping in front of your microphone, grabbing it once the band starts to play.

Drivin' on the right-side road She says I'm pretty wearin' her clothes And she's got hands that make Hell seem cold Feet on the dashboard, she's like a poem I wish I wrote I wish I wrote

Mapi became speechless. Did you really write a song about her? Are you really singing it for everyone to hear?

“Dude you didn’t tell me she wrote you a song!” Alexia gave Mapi a little shove, a teasing smile on her face.

“This is news to me!”

And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love

Mapi’s eyes look like they were about to pop out of their sockets. The two of you have never said the ‘L’ word to each other yet, but she’d be lying if she said there weren’t times where she almost said it.

God, I'm so boring, and I'm so rude Can't have a conversation if it's not all about you The way you dress, and the books you read I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when she's with me When she's with me

Ever since she left Los Angeles, Mapi has also been having a hard time falling asleep, so used to having you in her arms.

And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-love

I apologize if it's a little too much, just a little too soon But if the conversation ever were to come up I don't wanna assume this stuff But ain't it love?  I think I'm in love

She wanted to run up on the stage and say the words she’s been wanting to say for so long. You technically beat her in saying it, professing it to her and to the whole audience.

And she laughs at all my jokes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of her To make me feel this much I'd go anywhere she goes And she says I'm so American Oh, God, I'm gonna marry her If she keeps this shit up I might just be in lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-, lo-lo-lo-lo-love

—

liked by marialeonn16, user1 and 8,363,829 others

yourinstagram 5 new tunes for ya!! GUTS (spilled) out this friday!!!!!

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user1 AHHHHHH i can’t wait

user2 she preformed so american for us!!!

↳ user3 i loved it so much!

↳ user4 girlie is IN LOVEEE

—

Mapi and the rest of the team followed your bodyguard, Tony, to your dressing room, eating for you to finish thanking the fans. the door opens not that long after as they all spot you walking in.

You see Mapi right away, running to her, even in your tired state, jumping into her arms.

“Hola mi bebé.”

“Hey. I’m so tired.”

“Why don’t you get dressed comfy so we can go back home.”

“Yeah, home.” You walk away, waving to everyone else in the room, before going to get changed.

Two days after, you were still in Barcelona, specifically making sure you’ve taken a week break from tour to be able to stay with Mapi for a bit. You were both walking hand in hand around the city, wanting to spend time with each other doing whatever, just happy to be with her.

—

Y/N Y/LN New Fling?

Y/N Y/LN, an international pop star, was seen getting cozy with a mystery woman in Barcelona.

Just a couple of weeks ago, Y/LN started her international leg of her GUTS tour, preforming in Barcelona two days ago. On stage, she announced a deluxe version of her album, GUTS (spilled), where it features a song she performed for the first time called ‘so american.’

In the song, she said that she is “gonna marry her” and she “might just be in love” so, no this might not just be her new flavor of the week. Is Y/N Y/LN ready to settle down?

Y/LN has been previously linked with Lily Rose Depp, Joshua Basset, and Adam Faze just to name a few. None of those has seemed to last. Paparazzi has caught sight of Y/LN going all around the city of Barcelona with her new supposed girlfriend that we’ve found out is María Pilar León (Mapi), who plays on the Barcelona Femení Football Club. Pictures of the two are now circulating online and we have to say, Y/N looks very much in love. Take a look yourself.

Aren’t they just so cute! Let us know what you think.

—

Sitting on the couch watching a movie with Mapi, your phone suddenly starts going off with notifications.

Man-anger

Just a heads up, you’ve been paparazzied with your gf today.

You

Alright, thanks 👍🏼

“Ugh!” You throw your head back in frustration.

“What’s wrong bebé?”

“Damn paparazzi won’t leave me alone. They got pictures of us and posted them everywhere. I’m sorry. And they said that you’re hopefully not just my flavor of the week. Like what the fuck does that mean?”

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

“Cause I know you wanted to be private about this whole thing and this just ruined it.”

“Hey, hey.” Mapi holds your hands, moving them away from covering your face. “I’m not mad mi amor. We agreed on private but not secret. You can’t prevent people from taking pictures in public, especially of you. Eres hermosa.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I don’t want to keep hiding how much I love you.”

You freeze. This was the first time Mapi had said she loved you. You know that you technically said it in the song, but now you’re for sure.

“I love you.”

Mapi guides your face to her’s with a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, deepening it.

—

liked by marialeonn16, user1 and 10,638,742 others

yourinstagram i know i’m in love

tagged : @/marialeonn16

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[vidalswife]

Open Fire

Word Count: I.8k

— pairing: agatha harkness / wanda maximoff, post wandavision, pre aaa.

Summary: Its been months since Wanda Maximoff defeated Agatha Harkness in Westview and left her powerlessly trapped in a fake persona. What happens when the brunette witch somehow escapes, finding Wanda in her seclusion. An even bigger question, will Wanda team up with her to accomplish the end to Agatha's plan, and if so, what will happen as the two get closer?

author's note: this chapter does not contain any pg13+ material. however in the future of the story, there will be mature themes, so if you are a minor i advise you not to interact. on another note, i wrote this beginning to a fanfiction while waiting for agatha's spinoff to release. i am aware my fic has been stolen and published on another platform, however it is my writing, as you will see, parts of it were edited out. if you would like proof of ownership i shall surely message you. it will not be based on the show, but possibly could have elements of it! and in order not to spoil the plot i will leave it at that. <3

The redhead smiled at the knock on her door, expecting a hiker or a mountaineer to be waiting for her, she called out a quick "I’ll be right there", rushing to grab the refreshments she typically offered to those passing by.

Ever since she left Westview, since defeating Agatha, she’d been in the mountains of Slovakia. A small cabin was all she needed, it had a room, a kitchen, a small area with couches. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers. She crafted it on her own. She had finally reached the full potential of her power, at least she thought she did, and she used it to start anew. She did not want to be found, and she didn’t need anyone, but still, when hikers or tourists came around, she enjoyed the company. She would bake them pastries and bread every now and then. Agatha taught her to bake, but then again, Agatha taught her a lot.

When Wanda was growing up, she didn’t learn to bake or cook, but the witch she left behind in Westview taught her so many lessons about living in a mortal world. She’d hated her, for the most part, but there were so many things in her new life she had to credit to the brunette with mad curls.

As she placed the bowl of freshly baked bread upon the table, and the lemonade in a pitcher to the side, she checked her hair in the mirror planted on the wall, when she was satisfied, she opened the door.

And with a sudden flush, in the very instant, her heart sank, and she slammed the door.

_________________

It couldn’t be happening, I mean Wanda knew she couldn’t play keep-away forever with the other woman, but it sure as hell seemed like the best temporary option.

She turned with her back against the door, closing her eyes and exhaling a stress filled sigh.

”Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” said 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 voice. Even though there was no mistaking who owned the captivating tone, Wanda wished that when she opened her eyes, she would wake up, and she would somehow be in a dream.

But alas, when she did open her eyes, reality hit the redhead like a semi-truck.

Standing in front of her was Agatha Harkness, the now powerless, crazy, curly haired raveness. The ‘evil’ witch she had defeated some time ago.

Wanda instantly resorted to using her magic, sending magical cuffs around the woman’s wrists, to which Agatha simply chuckled, “I’m starting to get the notion this wasn’t as pleasant of a surprise as i had hoped.”

”Oh, really? You think so?” spat the ginger, a soft hand now palming her forehead. She figured the witch would return one day, rise again and try to get her powers back. However she never figured it would happen only months later. She may have been the most powerful being to exist, but there was no doubting the strength of the other witch in the room, or anyone she could have used to free herself.

”Wanda, dear, these cuffs aren’t necessary” she reminded, hinting that she no longer had powers.

Wanda's brow furrowed, her eyes flooding to the sight of the cuffed and powerless brunette in her living area. She wondered about removing restraints, questioned the probability that Agatha knew other ways to harm her, and she figured it was best to keep them.

”Listen doll, I haven't come to harm you, I've come to help you.” she spoke, and Wanda slowly inched closer, tilting her head as her lips parted, in an attempt to suggest something that would not come out. It was like the woman read her mind, one of the powers she had was the ability to manipulate, interact with, and read minds, but that had only been with those in Westview. . and there was no way she had power again.

”How did you know what I was thinking, Agatha?” she said, tone cruel and interrogative. With the settlement of these words, she was inches from the other witch, her expressions clearly showing some form of confusion and anger combined. Agatha loved playing with the gingerette’s mind. It was almost an impossible thing to avoid.

”Wanda Wanda Wanda” she spoke, a long pause shadowing the calling of the woman's name. Wanda noticed how intently the witch was watching her, observing her, studying her. With a smooth and subtle smirk, she began to speak again, “You can’t ever make things easy for yourself, can you?” Agatha slowly began to move, raising her hands from behind her back, which were free from wanda’s cuffs, almost as if they had never existed.

Wanda stood lifeless, frozen and in shock. Slowly she began backing away, realizing that this meant 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨.

”How did you–” she was cut off by a hand raising, a dim and small light of purple emerging from tan fingertips. Agatha whispered an incantation, flicked her wrist, and Wanda was forced upon the door, unable to move.

The witch inched closer, smirking at the woman’s confused look. “You're so. . dull. thinking you could take away 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of my power, and keep me trapped in your silly little persona?” she chuckled, “It took less than a week for me to break the curse you put on me, less than a month to gain some of what I lost. . I could’ve killed you, you know. I've been watching you, Wanda.” The redhead shivered at the thought of just dying, no warning, to the hands of Agatha Harkness, albeit. It made her think of Pietro, how he was dead, and never coming back.

”Oh, but don’t worry, I have bigger plans for you” she spoke, closer to wanda than ever before. Wanda had conflicting feelings towards Agatha. They had shared a friendship, of course, when Agatha was Agnes, and Wanda was “evil”. No matter the details, the two witches had built a rapport with one another. An unspoken understanding was present, so Wanda believed her when she said she wasn’t 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 planning to kill her.

”If you really want to help, with whatever twisted, fucked up idea you have of what I ‘need’, let me out of this hold.” Wanda shot a smile at the brunette, and Agatha simply tilted her head in consideration, before repeating another incantation.

The binding yet blinded force was now constructing her body, pressuring her more into the door. She yelped, wincing at the pain. Part of her wanted to use her magic, but she had learned it would do no good the last time she tried.

Agatha had a devilish smile on her lips, one that Wanda knew too well.

“Please” she winced. The older woman only chuckled mischievously, before flinging her wrist left.

As the redhead felt the force upon her body release, she sighed. Part of her wanted to run up and punch the other witch, mainly for imposing on her life so soon into her newly found peace (for the most part). Wanda instead shot an angry look at the brunette, and Agatha replied with an obvious smirk and a raise of her eyebrows.

”I'm sorry to have wasted you a trip, but I don’t want any help from 𝙮𝙤𝙪, and I never will” she remarked, walking away from the essence of the woman, to her kitchen counter. She grabbed a pitcher out of the fridge, pouring a glass of cold water. It was risky turning her back on such a powerful person, especially after refusing an offer, but there was some form of trust she felt, something unexplainable that she only felt with her.

It was quiet for a moment, until finally she heard the heels softly embracing the wood floor.

click.. click.. click.. click.

They stopped, and Wanda dismissed the notion of turning around. She could hear the smooth breaths Agatha took, so close. Wanda's hand clutched her glass, she planted the other on the counter.

Agatha's arms went past Wanda's waist, and she laid her hands over both of Wanda's. The younger woman reveled in the touch, it was the only human contact besides that of talking that she’d had in months. Agatha's body was pressing into her back, and she sighed into the touch. Her awareness of the situation only grew as she felt the woman’s lips brush along the skin of her neck.

The scarlet witch had always felt.. something when it came to her mentor. Her feelings about the woman were uncharted and complicated. She felt both comfort and edge, like she was safe but not secure. And to have her hands on her own, even if not interlinked, it got Wanda’s mind racing, as well as her heart. Heat flushed to her cheeks as she realized that the raveness could probably hear her heart beating.

”𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧” Agatha whispered, her voice husky and low. Her lips were close to the redhead’s ears, and a soft moan escaped Wanda's lips. She felt so many things, so much confusion at why the things Agatha said made her want to lean into the woman and let her take control. Whatever great things the brunette had in mind were probably wicked. . but when Wanda turned her head and looked into those brown eyes, she couldn’t say no. She tried, opening her mouth to refuse and tell her to leave, but nothing came from her lips.

This made a smirk run onto Agatha’s face, and she held the eye contact that the redhead initiated. At the notice of the woman's still hanging lip, she softly inched her own lips closer.

The witch had always intimidated those around her, and it was no different with Wanda, except the contact was far more intense, and almost like a battle for dominance. Agatha’s lips brushed against the gingerette's, and Wanda’s head tilted to the side, if they were to kiss, the angle would be perfect. Wanda wanted that, she desired it as she desired the air in her lungs. She closed her eyes, waiting for the embrace, when Agatha softly hummed. The brunette pulled her lips away, and found the dip in Wanda’s neck. A soft, but hot kiss was planted on her neck, and the younger woman’s head leaned back. With a smirk, Agatha took the glass from Wanda's hand, and backed away from the woman.

She took a sip from the glass, winking at her ginger witch.

”Don’t be a fool, Wanda” She playfully remarked, setting down the glass beside the redhead, and retreating from the woman.

Wanda had never been so confused, yet had so much clarity in her life. She didn't want to let Agatha stay, or help with whatever she desired, but those lips, those hands, that voice.. they clouded every piece of rationale in her.

Come tomorrow morning, Wanda Maximoff would team up with Agatha Harkness, and no one would know about the moment they had shared that night.

[wolfjackle-creates]

WIP Wednesday

Part 1, Part 2

This is more of Ghost!Robin haunting Jason. This might not've won the poll (if you haven't voted, it's the post right after this one on my blog. But you'll have to come out in numbers to win against the Dead on Main shippers!), but it will feature in both this week's WIP Wednesday and next, so y'all better be happy.

1,100 words

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“If he’s still in the area, you should invite him,” said Dick. “Alfred’s food is to die for.” Robin was hanging upside down next to Dick nodding solemnly.

Danny tried to stop himself, he really did. He even managed to keep from saying he���d been there done that, but he couldn’t keep from laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

From where he was bent over trying to catch his breath, he saw Dick do some sort of spin that ended with him sitting upright on the chair. “Um… Is he all right?”

“He’s fine,” Jazz insisted. “He just thinks he’s hilarious. He had an accident when he was younger with electricity and his heart stopped. But after a few months his condition stabilized and now he’s stronger than ever.”

Through his laughs, Danny gasped, “If— If I hadn’t died… Mom and Dad… And you never, Gotham.”

Jazz turned away from him and hid her face in Jason’s neck. Danny just got himself under control when he noticed her shoulders shaking slightly.

He lost it again, Jazz following just behind.

Someone was saying “I’m confused” but someone else joined in their laughter. Danny looked up and saw it was Jason. And Robin. He liked them both already.

“Sorry, sorry,” gasped Danny once he had enough breath to do so. “Amity Parkers have a morbid sense of humor.”

“Tt, I hardly believe your heart stopping then medical intervention saving your life can count as you actually dying.” Damian had a sneer on his face and Danny already didn’t like him.

But rather than engage, he just shrugged. “It was close enough that the ghosts back home like me more’n most.” He wiped his eyes to get rid of the tears.

“I like you, kid. Great sense of humor.” Jason reached around Jazz to ruffle his hair; Danny swatted the hand away.

“Ghosts?” asked Cass.

“Yes, of course,” said Jazz. “Amity Park, the most haunted town in America.”

“Ghosts aren’t real,” argued Damian.

“Do you really need to play up the tourist gimmick even around friends?” added Tim.

“Tourist gimmick? We hate outsiders.” Danny didn’t even bother responding to the comment about ghosts not existing.

“Why do you dislike outsiders so much?” asked Bruce.

With a shrug, Jazz answered, “It’s hard to explain, but outsiders just don’t fit in in Amity.”

Danny let himself look at Robin who was sitting on the back of the couch behind Jason. “Jason might be an exception, though. Have you taken him home yet?”

“No, but I’ve been wanting to. Just… Jack and Maddie.” Jazz did take their betrayal so much harder than Danny had.

“Fair. Tell you what, give me a list of weeks you two can arrange to get off and I’ll make sure Mom and Dad are out of Amity for at least one of them.”

Jason leaned around Jazz to ask, “Why are you so sure I’d fit in in Amity?”

Obviously he couldn’t say it was because Jason was haunted and liminal, so all he said was, “Oh, you’ve got the vibes. You’ll understand it when you get there. Just… Listen to Jazz? It isn’t really safe if you try and do your own thing.”

Around them, various conversations developed and Danny let Jazz take over describing the places in Amity she wanted to show Jason. Instead, he watched Robin interact with the wider group.

The ghost kept trying to get the attention of someone, anyone, in the Wayne family. But his efforts focused on Bruce and Dick. He was clearly haunting Jason, though, and it feels like they might be sharing ectoplasm somehow.

Danny really wanted to pull out his Ecto-tracker, based off the Fenton Finder but far more sensitive and accurate. Instead, he just moved his bag closer to him.

“We can store that somewhere so you don’t have to carry it around with you,” offered Tim who must’ve seen the motion.

“Oh, that’s okay. Mr. Alfred already offered. I feel more comfortable having my bag with me.”

“What are you carrying around?” he asked.

“Bit of everything, to be honest. Laptop, PDA, chargers, first aid kit, granola bars, medicines, change of clothes, things I need for my job.”

Jason asked over Jazz’s head, “What is your job? Jazz never shares specifics, just that it keeps you too busy to visit or call very often.”

Robin was now staring at him with a grin and making amused trills. It took all of Danny’s self control to not snark at him.

“I do contract work.” It was his default answer on Earth. It was even sort-of true. If he squinted and tilted his head. Robin did not look impressed by his answer.

“I… Don’t know what that means,” admitted Jason. “What field do you work in?”

Danny waved a hand in the air. “Ancients, easier to ask what I don’t do! I build or repair things. I’m good at finding people. I help others get where they need to go. I’ve done babysitting before. I’m called in to deescalate or otherwise resolve conflicts. Basically, if someone needs assistance with something, I do it. Or I know someone who can.”

“Why do you swear by these ‘Ancients?’” asked Damian.

“It’s another ghost thing. But you don’t believe in ghosts, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Jazz swears by them, too,” added Jason.

Tim elbowed Damian who stood and actually pulled a knife on his brother. Not only was this kid liminal, he definitely had some ghostly instincts. “Woah, that’s enough, Damian!” ordered Dick as he positioned himself between the two.

Damian allowed Dick to take the blade, though he continued to glare at Tim. “Then tell Drake to not touch me again.”

Tim rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever,” as he moved closer to Danny and Jazz. To Danny, he asked, “So, what sort of things do you build?”

Danny decided Damian’s ghost instincts weren’t worth commenting on at the moment and just answered the question. “Oh, I can build anything.” Pulling out his PDA, he unlocked it and handed it to Tim. “My partner Tucker and I designed these. All the capabilities of a smartphone without the need for a cellular plan. Plus durable enough to survive being run over by a tank. And it gets service anywhere.”

Tim wasted no time in navigating the device’s capabilities. “What is this UI? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Tucker designed it. He’s a genius with software. I’m the hardware guy.”

Tim asked more details on the specs of the PDA which Danny happily answered. The things he built with Tucker were always his favorite inventions.

Tag list!

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Part 4

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost

I think that's everyone! Let me know and I'll add you.

[superiorsturgeon]

The Quickest Way to a Man’s Heart

Pyrrha: *calling home from Beacon* Mom, do you have any recipes you can send from Mistral? My teammates always do the cooking and I want to make something for them!

Mama Nikos: Of course, dear! I’ll send you some Mistrali favorites!

Later that day…

Pyrrha: *wearing a spear-patterned apron, sets down a platter of food in front of her teammates* Here you go! A Mistrali special, with a couple Nikos adjustments for fun! 😉

Nora: *whispers* I don’t want to hurt Pyrrha’s feelings, but does this even look edible to you?

Ren: *shudders* Not even a little!

Pyrrha: *watching her team not touching their food* 😥

Jaune: *notices his partner’s distress and takes a deep breath, then digs into the questionable Nikos food* 🍴😫

Jaune: *glurk!* 🤢

Jaune: *struggling to avoid throwing up or visibly wincing* T-this is d-delicious, Pyrrha! Ren, Nora, can…can I have yours if you’re not hungry?

Ren/Nora: *staring in horror* Oh gods, he actually swallowed it!!! 😱

Pyrrha: You really liked it, Jaune? 😃 🥰

Jaune: 😰*through gritted teeth, trying to hold back vomit* 🥲 Of course! *hurp!* Thanks, Pyrrha! Can we *ourp* have this again later?

Pyrrha: Of course! Since you like it so much, every Tuesday from here on will be Mistrali dinner night, special for Jaune! 😊

Jaune: *inside* 😨 I’m going to die! I’ve seen the face of death and it has a cute red ponytail and an apron!

Jaune: *out loud* That sounds awesome! I can’t wait!

———————————————————————

About a year later…

Jaune: *eating Mistrali food again because it’s Tuesday* Thanks again for cooking Pyrrha!

Pyrrha: 😊 *practically glowing* He likes my cooking!

Pyrrha: Of course! Now eat up! I made it with extra protein since we’re doing strength training this week!

Pyrrha: *practically skips back to the kitchen to clean up* 🥰

Jaune: *eating happily* Isn’t it weird how much Pyrrha’s improved her cooking since last year?

Nora: *not touching her plate* Jaune-Jaune, you know I love you, but are you on drugs right now?

Ren: If anything, Pyrrha’s cooking skills have actually gotten WORSE, if that’s even possible…

Jaune: What? Come on, there’s nothing wrong with this food! It just needs a little salt, at most! I think Pyrrha’s cooking is great!

Nora: That’s because you got together-together with Pyrrha last year and love has made you stupid! 😑

Ren: I knew love was blind, but apparently it has no sense of taste either…😒

Jaune: *taking both their plates and adding it to his own* You guys have no appreciation for fine Mistrali cuisine!

———————————————————————

Another year down the road…

Nora: We finally made it to Mistral!

Pyrrha: *excitedly pulling Jaune by the hand* I can’t wait to show you around! I missed being back home so much! Let’s go eat lunch at a local restaurant I know! Oh, I hope the menu hasn’t changed too much…!

JNPR: *all line up and place their orders*

Pyrrha: Oh, I’m so excited for my team to try the food I grew up with! I’ve done my best to make it for you every Tuesday!

Nora: *immediately chowing down* Mmmh! This is GREAT!

Ren: I must say, Mistrali food is delicious!

Pyrrha: *happily enjoying the food she missed from her childhood* Mmmm…! So much better than I can make it…! ☺️

Jaune: *carefully chewing*

Pyrrha: What do you think of it, Jaune?

Jaune: …

Jaune: …Pyrrha, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I like this…

Pyrrha: What…?

Nora: Seriously? This stuff is AWESOME!!!

Ren: I agree! This might be the best meal I’ve had in weeks.

Jaune: I’m sorry! It’s just…well…

Pyrrha: *deflating* Just what, Jaune?

Jaune: It’s just that Pyrrha makes it so much better!

_NPR: …

Ren/Nora: W H A T…?

Jaune: I mean, I don’t want to be a rude tourist, but I guess I just assumed Mistrali food was all as good as Pyrrha’s cooking, you know?

Jaune: I guess this stuff is okay, but…Pyrrha, would you mind making dinner later? I think I like it better the way you do it.

Ren: Jaune, you do realize that this restaurant is literally world-renowned for making incredible Mistrali food?

Jaune: Well…yeah, I guess, but I still think Pyrrha’s version is better!

Pyrrha: *at a loss for words* …I… 😳

Pyrrha: *sniffles* 🥹 …of course, Jaune. I’ll make as much as you want!

Nora: I’ve drank syrup straight from the bottle that was less sweet than this! Kiss him already!

[hannahssimblr]

I feel bad for Liam, and eventually do extend a pity invite to what I intend to be a quiet night in with a couple of beers a couple of nights later. It’s been a day just like all of the others, spent alternating between kicking a lightweight ball from the tourist shop about, barefoot on the sand, and jumping into the sea when the sun gets too hot. 

In the late afternoon, when the skin across my nose feels tight and my hair wild and crunchy from the salt, I queue for ice cream at the Surf Shack where Liam is slinging cones and coffees. I have a sense that Liam suffers. He must, while slaving away in that tiny space between the counter and the grill that’s always sizzling with the chips and burgers that his father is flipping. He smiles widely at me when I reach the head of the line, sweat pooling on his forehead and that feeling of sympathy intensifies inside me. My sympathy, partially, because I’ve never really tried to be nice to him for reasons that neither he or I can fully understand. I invite him over on the spot.

A part of me hopes he won’t come, that he’ll be too awkward, but, of course, he does. His mother drops him off outside and he knocks on the door with a big, jolly smile and a big plastic bottle of coke. I bring it to the kitchen counter with our crates of beer and bottles of vodka. 

“Will you have a glass of this?” I offer, “Or you can have a beer or something.”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Oh, well I’ll have vodka, probably… I’ll mix it with the coke or whatever.”

Liam, thrilled that I have chosen to make use of the drink he brought, perks up as I unscrew the top, “Okay I’ll have the same then!”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, that sounds lovely.”

I pour some for him and we head down to the living room together, where Joe and Kasper are arguing animatedly about whose ipod should be connected to the aux cable. As I sink onto the sofa next to Jen, she puts her head on my shoulder. 

“You were nice to invite him,” she says, and we watch Liam as he strikes up an enthusiastic conversation with Shane about football.

“Yeah well,” I mutter, “Keep an eye on him. My money's on him getting hammered tonight.”

I don’t know if Liam gets hammered, I stop paying attention to him after an hour or so, because I, in fact, am the one who drinks too much that night. It starts when Joe starts pouring doubles in the kitchen, and Kasper starts up a dangerous bragging game, claiming that he can hold more drink than all of us combined. 

“Even more than you!” he claims, his finger stabbing at my chest, “Mister big guy. Polish can drink more than the Irish.”

“You mean American,” Joe pipes up, “Or, I dunno, what are you?”

“Not sure,” I say, and slosh an undetermined measure of vodka into my cup. It breaches the rim and splashes on the floor a bit, but I’ll definitely clean it up later. To make a point I neck the whole thing in five seconds, then Kasper tilts his head and swallows his whole cup too, wiping his mouth with a smile and a shrug like it was easy. I know I’m in trouble. 

It’s hazy after that, and when I’m pushing the living room furniture out of the way and forcing Jen to dance with me to some Armin Van Buuren song, she squeals in my arms. “God, no! I hate dancing!”

“But you love dancing with me.”

“You are so drunk, show me your face,” she grabs my cheeks and looks right into my eyes, and she’s swimming in and out of focus, “Oh my god, yes, you’re smashed.”

“I love you, Jenny.”

“I know.”

I kiss one cheek then the other, and repeat, “I love you.”

“I thought she was lesbian,” Liam comments from the sideline. 

“Come on,” she peels me off her, clamping her hand over my mouth, because she doesn’t like the way I’m trying to sing words I don’t even know into the side of her face, I try to lightly bite her palm, “Hey! Come outside with me, I’m going to have a smoke.”

“Okay.”

She takes my hand and leads me upstairs and through the kitchen where our shoes are tacky on the floor. “Ugh, sticky.”

“I’ll clean it sometime.”

“Uh huh, sure you will,” she rummages through a cabinet and produces a pack of cigarettes from behind my parents’ champagne flutes. 

“Why do you keep them in there?” I wonder. 

“Because you’ll sneak them from me if you know where they are, and then one by one they’ll be squirrelled away, but rest assured, I’ll find a new spot to hide them tomorrow.”

“I don’t smoke.”

She smirks, “okay.”

“Not properly,”

“Then don’t ask me for one,”

I was going to, but don’t, to make a point. 

She unlocks the balcony door, “I saw a film recently that I think you’d like.”

“Really?” I don’t know how she thinks I can be involved in a discussion about films right now, but I suspect she doesn’t, that she's trying to distract me so that I don’t start bumming any of her rare and precious cigarettes. My brain doesn’t have the functioning nor the willpower to let her know I’m in on her little trick, so I just listen, or half listen to her go on about it. 

“...kind of that vibe, like you think it’s a simplistic, kind of run of the mill, then all this bonkers shit starts happening and like… oh hang on, c’mere, can you bring me out that lighter in there?”

“Over there?”

“Yep, on the table.”

I grab it and bring it to her, taking a risky move and tossing it, but she’s quick, she catches it before it careens over the edge of the balcony, proving her coordination a lot better than mine in this condition. I rest my elbows against the tempered glass of the railing because I’m losing trust in myself to stay upright. Is she talking about a David Lynch film? I should have listened to her at the beginning of this conversation because now it’s too late to ask. 

The world is churning, but I am invested in watching her try to light the cigarette, because there are two lighters, two mouths, two Jens. The sight of it is funny enough to make me laugh, as both her faces float around in front of my eyes like some magical illusion. 

“Feck sake,” the lighter sparks but fails to ignite, “This one is out of juice. Here, I think there’s another one in that bowl downstairs.”

She doesn’t trust me on the balcony alone, I can tell by the things the muscles in her brow are doing, the way she tugs me away from the edge, and I don’t think I trust myself either. I picture myself falling over the railing onto the sand, and decide that I would prefer not to be paralysed or dead before I ever see Berlin. I follow her back to the kitchen. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

corresponding LG chapter

[hunieday]

Yamato, Sougo, Momo 2024 Shuffle talk RabbiTV Episode 2

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Momo: Woah...! Sougo, your soap bubbles are so big!

Osaka Sougo: Yes! I’m starting to get the hang of it!

Nikaido Yamato: I’m no good at it. Sou, give me some tips.

Osaka Sougo: Um, if you blow too hard, it will pop, so try blowing steadily and for as long as possible to make it bigger!

Nikaido Yamato: Slowly and steadily... Pheewww...

Nikaido Yamato: Hey man, this is pretty tiring.

Momo: It takes a lot of lung capacity!

Momo: All right! Momo-chan’s gonna try making a really big one! Pheeewww...!

Woman passing by: <Look! These people are making soap bubbles. Looks like they’re having fun!>

Momo: <Haha, thank you! Oh! Can I ask you something please?>

Man passing by: <They’re pretty big! Nice!>

Man passing by: <Of course!>

Momo: <We’re looking for a mermaid in Melbourne. Any clue about where we can find one?>

Woman passing by: <I’m sorry, we’re also tourists so we don’t really know much about it.>

Momo: <Okay okay! Thanks anyway!>

Momo: Hmm, I thought maybe the locals would know, but it’s not easy to find clues.

Osaka Sougo: There are a lot of tourists around here. Shall we move to another place?

Nikaido Yamato: Well, let’s take it easy for a bit. We might get some hint by asking around using the soap bubbles like we just did.

Dog: Woof woof! Woof!

Girl: <Ah! Don’t go over there by yourself!>

Momo: Wow! What a big doggie! And its fur is so shiny!

Osaka Sougo: It’s running towards the soap bubbles Momo-san made.

Nikaido Yamato: Haha, it’s wagging its tail so energetically.

Dog: Woof woof! Woof woof!

Girl’s Mother: <Sorry! I think she’s curious about the soap bubbles.>

Momo: <Don’t worry! I’m glad she’s enjoying them.>

Dog: Woof!

Momo: <Ahaha! Good girl!>

Nikaido Yamato: <Are you out for a walk?>

Girl: <...Yeah.>

Osaka Sougo: <She looks happy to be taking a walk with you.>

Girl: <...>

Osaka Sougo: <Ah, did I say something wrong?>

Girl’s Mother: <I’m sorry, she’s been sulking since this morning. She was supposed to go on a walk with her dad, but he had to go to work all of the sudden ...>

Nikaido Yamato: <I see... Must be tough.>

Nikaido Yamato: <I remember the days when I felt the same way when I was little. They were pretty common.>

Girl: <You too, big brother...? I was really looking forward to it... I was really disappointed. I know Papa is working hard, but...>

Nikaido Yamato: <You’re a good kid. Just knowing that is enough.>

Girl: <Do you… think so...?>

Momo: <If you want to, would you like to join us and make some soap bubbles? We have an extra one, so I’ll give it to you!>

Girl: <...Are you sure?>

Girl’s Mother: <Thank you for being so considerate.>

Momo: <Can’t leave a girl looking so sad! We’re idols after all.>

Osaka Sougo: <I’ll show you how to make a big soap bubble.>

Girl: <Okay! Thank you!>

Girl: <Big brother, here comes the next soap bubble!>

Momo: <Okay! Let’s see who can touch the soap bubble first!>

Dog: Woof!

Girl: <Ahaha!>

Osaka Sougo: Before we knew it, we were chasing after soap bubbles.

Nikaido Yamato: Right. Well, I’m glad she’s smiling now.

Nikaido Yamato: But I’m really impressed that Momo-san’s able to run as fast as he is now. I’m out of breath just from a short run.

Girl’s Mother: <It’s time to go home. Say thank you to those nice big brothers.>

Girl: <Thank you. It was so much fun!>

Nikaido Yamato: <We had fun too. Thanks for playing with us.>

Girl’s Mother: <You must be here sightseeing, right? If there’s somewhere you want to go, I can guide you there to show my gratitude.>

Osaka Sougo: <Ah, we don’t have a specific destination, but we’re looking for a mermaid here in Melbourne.>

Girl: <A mermaid? I’ve got one with me! Look!>

Momo: <Woah! You have an adorable mermaid plushie!>

Girl: <If you want one too, you can get one at the aquarium!>

Osaka Sougo: <The aquarium... There’s one nearby, isn’t there? It’s on the exploration map too!>

Nikaido Yamato: <Is that so? Maybe there’s a mermaid living at the aquarium.>

Girl: <Yeah, there is! She’s swimming in the tank!>

Osaka Sougo, Nikaido Yamato & Momo: Whaaat!?

End of Episode 2.

[blood-darkened-moon]

What about the Ashfords and Victorianos meeting?

That’s probably not what you had in mind, but it’s the scenario I liked the most. And sorry for the length. I didn’t want to write so much, but since it’s a crossover, I thought I should add more context to it. Otherwise, it would have been too random. I’ll try to keep the other request closer to what I had intended.

AO3 Link

Anatomy Lessons

The car drove slowly along a path lined with trees on both sides. “We are almost there,” said the man who had previously introduced himself as Ernesto Victoriano.

“Is it really okay if we spend the night at your place? I can just call a cab, and we can spend the night in a hotel in the city.” Her father was obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. It was the same for her. The man was, after all, a complete stranger, even if he was helpful and, it seemed, one of the wealthiest and most influential citizens around Krimson City, a town in the eastern part of Kansas.

“No, that’s all right. As the saying goes, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ I wouldn’t be a good Christian if I didn’t help a family in need.” Alexander smiled a little uneasily in response while Alfred shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Then the man added: “After all, your car broke down right on my land. If that’s not a sign from God.” No one answered, so Ernesto changed the subject.

“Where were you going anyway? You are tourists, right?”

“Not exactly. I am ... was traveling on business. Small town in the Arklay Mountains, I’m sure you don’t know it. Before we fly back home, I wanted to do a little round trip with the kids. I haven’t had enough time for them lately anyway.”

“Lately,” Alfred repeated, dripping with sarcasm but quietly enough that only Alexia could hear him.

“I see. And where is Mrs. Ashford, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“She has died.” A lie. Her father had divorced their mother when Alexia and Alfred were less than two years old. But Alexander probably didn’t want to say that in front of Mr. Good Christian. In fact, this woman hadn’t even been the twins’ real mother, just a surrogate. Alexia didn’t know who their biological mother was.

“Oh. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to get personal. I’m very sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”

The car stopped in front of an iron gate. Ernesto Victoriano got out to open it. He then got back in and drove them straight to the villa’s entrance. A black-haired woman opened the front door. She seemed surprised to see all the people.

Ernesto went up to her and kissed her on the forehead. “May I introduce my wife, Beatriz. Beatriz, these are our guests. Alexander, Alfred, and Alexia Ashford. Their car has broken down. I’ve invited them to stay with us tonight.” Beatriz did not seem to be happy about it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said hesitantly and unconvincingly. Then she pulled her husband closer to her to discuss something with him, but it was not loud enough for Alexia to understand.

Ernesto ended the conversation shortly after with a serious expression on his face. “Have the guest rooms prepared and show the children around the house while I call the towing service and the workshop with Alexander.” Beatriz seemed upset but didn’t say anything back. Ernesto then disappeared into the house with Alexander.

Their hostess simply stood rooted to the spot in front of the entrance for a few seconds and stared at the twins before she said: “Come in.” The entrance area of the villa reminded Alexia of the Spencer Villa they had visited in Raccoon City, except that everything was a little smaller. There wasn’t much time to look around, however, as Beatriz took them to the second floor into a library. “You two wait here for a minute, will you?” She opened the door to a long corridor and called out: “Laura. Ruben. Come here and say hello to our guests.”

After looking around the house, Beatriz handed the twins to her 14-year-old daughter, Laura. She was supposed to keep them occupied until dinner. Laura was very friendly and took good care of Alfred and Alexia. Alexia still didn’t like being treated like a child. Even though she was three years younger than Laura, she already had a doctorate and had been working as a head of research for a year, while Laura hadn’t even finished school yet.

But Alexander had told her to behave like a normal child towards the Victorianos. He didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to them; after all, they didn’t even know these people. The only question was how a normal child should behave. Should she act more like Alfred? But according to conversations of the domestic workers, whom Alexia had secretly overheard, Alfred wasn’t exactly normal either. In fact, the staff only ever complained about how strange and creepy the twins were.

Alexia decided to stay quiet and observe for the time being. In her opinion, this was the best way to approach unknown situations. She would simply go along with everything Laura said.

They spent the afternoon outside. Laura took her little brother Ruben and the twins to a sunflower field, where they all played tag and hide-and-seek together before returning to the villa in the late afternoon. They spent the rest of the time playing a ball game, which Alfred and Alexia narrowly won. However, Alexia had the impression that Laura had deliberately let them win. Such infantile activities were usually not on Alexia’s agenda, but she had to admit that she had enjoyed it.

In case Laura also found the twins strange and creepy, she played it cool. To Alexia’s surprise, even Alfred was quite taken with the older girl. Her brother was usually rather dismissive of strangers, but he was open and friendly towards Laura. Perhaps a little too friendly.

Ruben, on the other hand, was a strange child. He wasn’t necessarily shy but had hardly spoken a single word to the twins. He also gave Alfred a hateful look every time he was near Laura.

The afternoon faded into evening. Everyone gathered for dinner in their best clothes. As a guest, Alexander was supposed to say grace, but because he was stammering quite a bit, Alexia asked to take over, much to her father’s relief. At 9 pm, the twins were told that it was time for bed and that they should go to their room. However, sleep was still a long way off for them.

---

“Alexia, do you really think this is a good idea? What if someone sees us?”

“You said you couldn’t sleep. Besides, we’re not doing anything wrong. We don’t want to steal or break anything. We’re just looking around. It’s almost midnight. They are all asleep now anyway.”

Alfred and Alexia continued their way through the rooms and corridors of the villa. Beatriz had not shown them the entire building, and they had only been briefly in most of the rooms. Now, the twins wanted to take a closer look at the interior of the Vicoriano Estate.

“I know, but what if they wake up and catch us? These people are kind of weird.”

“All except Laura, eh?” Alexia couldn’t see it in the semi-darkness, but she could have sworn Alfred’s face was turning red.

Then she added: “Don’t worry so much. If they catch us sneaking around, we’ll say we had to go to the toilet and got lost.”

“Okay.” They were walking through an area of the villa that Beatriz had left out during the tour when they saw a faint glow of light emanating from the crack under a door.

“Hey, Alexia, look, there’s light. Someone’s still awake. Shall we go and have a look? We weren’t in that room before.”

“Alfie, for real? You were afraid of getting caught only a minute ago...” Alexia signaled Alfred to be quiet. Then they crept over to the door as quietly as they could. It wasn’t completely closed. Alexia cautiously pushed it open with one finger and looked inside.

Ruben was sitting at a table on the opposite wall, doing something Alexia couldn’t see. She gave Alfred a signal. He nodded. Then Alexia pushed the door all the way open, and they entered the room. Ruben turned around in a panic and jumped up from his chair when he saw the twins.

“What are you doing here? Get out! You have no business here,” he whisper-screamed. His hands were covered in blood. He was trying to hide something lying on the table behind him with his body. Curious, the twins came closer.

“What are we doing here? What are you doing here? It’s already late. Little kids like you should be in bed by now,” Alexia replied.

“You’re still children, too. I’m allowed to be here. I’m allowed to do this.”

Alexia had walked around him to take a look at the thing on the table.

“And what exactly are you doing here? Are you going to dissect the pig’s head, or are you playing butcher?”

“None of your business, you stupid cow!”

Alfred grabbed the nearest object within reach, a saw, and started threatening Ruben. “How dare you insult Alexia! I’ll butcher you like that pig!”

Meanwhile, Ruben grabbed a scalpel and held it out to Alfred in his outstretched hand but couldn’t get a word out. Alexia didn’t miss his slight trembling either. After all, Alfred was quite a bit taller and stronger than the 7-year-old boy.

“Alfred, he’s only seven. Stop that right now. Ruben, you too. You’ll wake everyone up if you’re not quiet.” Why did Alfred always have to be so violent? But somehow, Alexia liked it when her brother defended her.

The two of them slowly lowered their weapons. After the situation had calmed down a little, Alexia looked at Ruben’s work. An open book on the table showed the cuts he was supposed to make. The boy had tried to follow it, but the result looked more like crude butchering than precise cuts.

“If you want to dissect the head properly, you have a lot to learn. You know what? I’ll show you how you do it. Do you have gloves?”

The boy shook his head.

“Okay, wait a minute, I’ll get some. And Alfred?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything.”

She went back to her and Alfred’s guest room as quickly and quietly as possible and got some latex gloves and a few other things that might be useful from her luggage. Alexia always took a few lab supplies with her when she traveled. Just in case, she discovered something interesting and wanted to take a sample with her.

Alfred and Ruben had apparently not moved during her absence and were still staring at each other. The atmosphere was still tense, but at least both seemed to be less hostile towards each other now.

“You don’t have any disinfectant either. You’re lucky I have got some with me. You always have to disinfect everything to reduce the risk of exposing yourself to pathogens when working with biological material. For this reason, you should also always wear your personal protective equipment, such as gloves.”

Ruben stared at her, somewhat confused and surprised. “Don’t you think it’s gross what I’m doing?” he asked in a low voice.

“No. Why? When I was your age, I dissected animals too. Mostly, it was rats and other rodents, though.”

A pig’s head was, admittedly, something new, and the last time she had dissected an animal during her studies had been some time ago. Alexia recalled all the steps as she made the preparations.

“Now, watch how I hold the scalpel. It’s best to start here. See? If you cut like this, you can easily remove the scalp.” Ruben watched fascinated.

“And now the cranial bone.” Ruben’s saw didn’t look like a bone saw, and cutting the bone of such a large animal was much more challenging than cutting that of a small rat. “Alfie, will you help me with the sawing? But put your gloves on first.”

Alfred got straight to work under Alexia’s instructions. He seemed to enjoy it. When he had finished, Alexia removed the brain to continue her explanation. Ruben observed everything carefully.

“Alexia is a genius. Pay attention when she explains things to you, kiddo.”

“The brain is surrounded by a thick protective membrane. Here. Just a moment, I have to remove it first.” While Alexia worked, she continued her lecture: “The meninges surround the brain in three layers. The dura mater lies furthest out. The arachnoid mater lies in the middle, and the innermost layer, the pia mater, directly covers the brain’s surface. To increase the surface area, the brain has convolutions. The mountains are called gyri, and the valleys between them are called sulci or fissures if they are particularly deep.”

Alexia traced the areas with her fingers.

“The brain is divided into two hemispheres. The left hemisphere controls the right side of the body; the right hemisphere controls the left side. In the middle is the cerebral fissure. The two halves are connected via the corpus callosum, a thick band of neurons.”

Alexia pulled the two halves slightly apart so that Ruben could see it.

“This part is the cerebrum, here is the cerebellum, this is the brain stem, and here we have a part of the spinal cord.” Alexia mainly limited herself to the structure and only briefly went into the functions of the individual areas. She didn’t want to overwhelm the boy, even though he seemed to be following along well so far.

“If you want to separate the two halves, it’s best to cut them cleanly with one slice.”

She took a large knife and showed Ruben the best way to cut through the brain, then continued.

“Now you can see the inner structure of the cerebellum and the subcortical area. This is the thalamus, and underneath we have the hypothalamus.”

As she explained, she separated the parts from one half of the brain as best she could with the tools at her disposal. She then handed them to Ruben, who was also wearing gloves now, so that he could examine them better.

“How do you know all this, and why are you so good at this?”

“Well. Last year I...” Alexia paused. She was supposed to behave like a normal child, and the “normal” part had already fallen into oblivion. “Well... I’m just a genius.” Ruben stared at her for a moment and seemed to understand that she didn’t want to say anything else. Then he nodded briefly and asked: “Can I try it?” Ruben pointed to the other half of the brain.

“Yes, of course.” Alexia stood up so that Ruben could take her seat. Still a little clumsy, Ruben managed to take apart his half of the pig brain under Alexia’s guidance. Despite his age and probably lack of experience, he did better than some of the idiots Umbrella sent her as subordinates.

“Not bad at all, for a start, but you still have a lot of practicing to do. Maybe you will become a scientist one day. You’re definitely clever.”

After this compliment, the boy grinned happily from ear to the other.

“Oh, and Ruben, this will remain our secret, right? Not a word to your parents or your sister.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Alexia.” the boy promised in a serious voice. Alfred bent down so that he was at eye level with Ruben. He still had the saw in his hand and a deranged grin on his face.

“And if you do, I’ll butcher you like that pig!”

“Alfred!”

“I was just joking.” Alexia rolled her eyes. Alfred wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t hurt Ruben even if she didn’t intervene, at least not severely; after all, the child was their hosts’ son. Still, she knew her brother well enough to know that, at the moment, all that stood between him and real murder were the consequences that would follow.

“Come on, it’s getting late. Let’s clean up. I’m getting tired,” Alexia changed the subject. By the time they finished the cleaning and went to bed, it was already after 2 am.

---

The twins slept until late in the morning. Shortly before noon, they received a call that the car had been repaired and that they could pick it up at any time. However, Ernesto insisted that the Ashfords stay for lunch.

In the early afternoon, the Ashfords said goodbye to their hosts. Laura hugged the twins warmly. Alfred held on to the hug a little too long for Alexia’s liking. Ruben seemed a little shy towards her today. She was already worried that the boy was a little overwhelmed. But before Alexia got into the car, Ruben slowly walked up to her and handed her a colorful bouquet of flowers that he had hidden behind his back.

“I picked these for you,” he said quietly.

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you.” Alexia smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, whereupon Ruben turned bright red. “And don’t forget your exercises,” she added quietly. Alfred stood not even a meter away from Alexia. He looked at Ruben as if he would have liked to skin the boy alive on the spot.

“Jealous?” Alexia whispered barely audibly and stuck her tongue out at her brother.

“Come on, are you finally done? We have to go,” Alexander, who was already sitting in the car, interrupted them. They waved goodbye to Beatriz, Laura, and Ruben once more. Then, the twins got into the car before Ernesto drove them to the workshop in Krimson City so that they could continue their journey.

[savywrites]

What about me (JJxsister)

JJ x sister!reader (14 or 15)

Summary: Reader is always helping JJ out whenever he needs it, but what happens when she needs help but he isn't there to return the favor.

Warnings: Verbal and physical Abuse, Angst 

Requests are Open!!

Word count: 1111

Everybody eventually gets to that age when you have to start pulling your own weight around the house. For you and JJ that started a lot earlier than most other kids. From a very young age Luke expected a lot from you both, and if you didn't meet his standards he would show you by taking it out on you. 

Recently you and JJ had both been pretty busy. He was always hanging out with the pogues and other random tourist girls, while you occasionally hung out with the pogues and mainly prioritized work and some school. 

Chores have always been something you and JJ needed to keep up on because you always seemed to fall behind on them. So you two came up with the best solution you could, an evenly divided schedule. Whenever either of you were home you tried to get your chores done as quietly and as quickly as possible hoping to stay out of Luke's way. 

You had just come home from school and knew you were on dish duty and needed to get those done. You knew that JJ was on laundry and needed to get a load started but that was his problem to figure out, not yours. That was until you received a text from him.

JJ: Hey I won't be home in time to do laundry. Can you start a load for me and I'll finish it?

Y/n: Yea no prob. Please be home soon.

So you went on and started the load, hoping he would get home soon to take over. Only he wasn't home soon. He didn’t even come home at all that night. Leaving you alone to finish up his chore and to also have to stay the night with your dad. This was not the only time something like this has happened. You found yourself doing more and more of his own chores than he did himself. This happened a lot more than you would've liked, but you just got through it. Until you needed help and he wasn't there willing to help you.

You were currently at work when your boss had asked you to stay a few extra hours to help out and also get paid more. Of course you said yes because you knew you needed the extra money and because it's not like you had anything better to do. So you texted JJ, but this time asking him for help. 

Y/n: Hey J, can you help me out by taking the trash out and just running the dishwasher. It should be full and ready to run, I just need someone to hit the start button.

JJ: Umm. I'm currently out right now at the beach with the pogues. I'll try and stop by later to do it. 

Y/n: ok just please help me out. 

You had just finished up your extra shift and are on your way home. You were so tired after the day you had with all the crazy customers and just wanted to go to sleep. Only that was not what was waiting for you when you got home. You open the door and there's Luke standing right there waiting for you.

“Y/n your chores are not done!” He spoke to you in a stern voice. You couldn't believe it. You had asked JJ to help you out with them and he couldn't even do that. 

“Oh I'm so sorry I can get those done right now.” You hoped he would accept that and let you walk away only he didn't. He grabbed your arm as hard as he could and pushed you down onto the floor. You had little strength in your from being as tired and strained as you were you couldn't fight back. He punched you in your nose and on your cheek before moving down and giving a few blows to your stomach. You were in so much pain and also felt a strong amount of betrayal. You couldn't believe that he had not helped you out when you needed it, but when he asked for help you always did it. Once Luke was satisfied and left you immediately got up and finished everything that had to get done, after you went into your room, packed a bag, and started making your way over to the chateau.  

You made your way over to the entrance of the chateau and saw JJ sitting there with everyone else. You felt disgusted. You had to show up here with a bloodied nose and bruised cheek while he was here the entire time hanging out with his friends. 

Kiara was the first one to notice you.

“Yo Y/n what happened? Are you alright?” 

You just ignored her and walked inside to go drop your back off then head to the bathroom to clean up.

You heard the footsteps behind you. They belonged to JJ. 

“Oh my God, Y/n what happened? Why are you all beat up?”

“Maybe because the things I asked for help with weren't done and then when I showed up at home I got beat up.”

“Oh shit I forgot” he ran his fingers through his hair already being regretful.

“Oh really? I didn't notice.” You replied sarcastically. You did not have time for this. 

“No you do not get to pull that on me. It is not my fault you didn't and couldn't get your own chores done.” You stared at him with the deadliest glare you've ever given. If looks could kill he would drop dead right now. 

“Excuse me?! Do you know how much I have helped you out recently with your chores while you're off with your friends doing nothing but drinking and smoking?” You were flabbergasted. No way was he getting away with this and blaming it as your own fault. 

“I'm sorry I was working and got put on extra shifts so I could make more money. My bad. Next time let me just not work, then we won't have food or anything we need. Is that better for you?”

“No, I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that. I promise from now on I'll be there and I'll help you out.”

“Good.”

“Yea ok I deserve that” he helped finish cleaning up your nose and cheek then gave you one big bear hug.

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too, shorty.”

[villainsview]

Part 1

FULL ART by @scarletfish8eta

<Prev | Masterlist | Next>

It had been a rough year. Fetch had been working hard in an attempt to earn back what he’d lost in his disaster of a job for Allard. He’d already earned back a fair bit, though, but he still had a long way to go. And after so many jobs, it was time to lay low for a while again, which meant it was time to take a nice little break.

“You’re going to like it,” he said, addressing the blond teen in the passenger’s seat, “it’s got a view of the ocean, the people like to keep to themselves…”

“So…you live near the beach, and your ideal vacation spot is…a cabin on the beach?” Erick asked.

“I like the beach,” Fetch replied, “but I also like peace and quiet and that’s hard to get in San Diego this time of year. Here however…no tourists. Only locals.”

“Could I…maybe go out a bit more?” Erick asked.

“Yeah why not,” Fetch said, “oh look, we’re here.”

They parked on the driveway of a small cabin. It was even with the road, but the back half was supported by sturdy beams with a wooden staircase leading down to the beach. It was quite a view indeed. However, before they got much of a chance to enjoy it, Fetch already noticed something amiss. While he was waiting for Erick to get the bags from the van, he noticed the front door had been left slightly ajar.

“Wait here,” he said.

“Why—”

“Because I say so! Fucking hell…” Fetch grumbled, giving the teen an annoyed push, before carefully approaching the cabin.

He pulled out his gun, just in case, and approached the front door, pushing it open slowly. The first thing he noticed was the smell of coffee, followed by other sounds coming from the kitchen. Refusing to get thrown off by confusion, he continued on, gun ready as he headed towards the kitchen.

The door had been taken out years ago, leaving only the frame to provide a more open space. He peered into the kitchen, lowering his gun when he saw a familiar woman. She was standing at the counter, cutting something crunchy-sounding with a bit of an oversized knife for the job. He could see her smirking at him through the reflection in the window.

“About time you showed up, Fetcher.”

“Jesus Christ, Rhodes. I could’ve shot you,” Fetch said, putting his gun away again.

“Eh, it takes more than that to kill me,” she replied, turning around and taking a bite from the grilled cheese she just cut, “made ya some coffee.”

“Don’t play innocent,” Fetch said with a sigh, “what are you doing here? How did you get inside? How’d you even know I’d be here?!”

“Your neighbour caught me snooping around your apartment,” Lavender said, “told her I’m a friend trying to surprise you and she straight up told me your vacation address.”

“Damn it, Ethel,” Fetch sighed, “and why were you snooping around my apartment?”

“Looking for you, duh.”

“Get to the point woman!”

“Alright, alright.” Lavender said, rolling her eyes, before being distracted by something behind Fetch, “Hey Erick~”

“I told you to wait by the van,” Fetch sighed, not even turning to acknowledge the teen.

“I saw Lavender through the window so I came to check if she’d killed you,” Erick said, putting down the bags he’d carried inside.

“If anything I would’ve killed her,” Fetch said.

“Yeah right,” Lavender scoffed, “you want something to eat, Erick? I made your favourite~”

“Don’t talk to him,” Fetch said, “what do you want?”

“I want you to chill,” Lavender said, “come sit down, have some coffee and I’ll tell you what I’ll need.”

“Why should I trust you?” Fetch said.

“Worked out for you last time, didn’t it?” Lavender said, “or did you not find the money I left for you?”

“She has a point,” Erick quietly chimed in.

“He gets it!” Lavender said.

Fetch looked about ready to kill them both, but he forced himself to calm down, pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one. Lavender smirked victoriously, knowing he would hear her out at least, so she poured him a cup of the coffee she made, and offered Erick the other half of her grilled cheese. They sat around the kitchen table, though rather than accepting the coffee, Fetch passed it on to Erick.

“Not thirsty?” Lavender asked.

“Caffeine dehydrates,” Fetch said, “also I just want to make sure you didn’t poison it.”

“So you give it to the kid you gave up a job for to taste-test?” Lavender asked.

“I gave up that job because I didn’t agree with the client’s end goal.”

“Good,” Lavender said, “then you’re gonna like what I have to say next.”

Meanwhile Erick warily sipped the coffee, shrugging at Fetch as he found nothing wrong with it.

“No poison?”

“I’m not dying, am I?” Erick said.

“Watch the attitude,” Fetch said, snatching the coffee back from him before turning back to Lavender, “so what did you have to say that I was going to like?”

“I want to kill Mateo,” Lavender said.

“Have fun,” Fetch simply replied.

“I’ll need your help,” Lavender begrudgingly admitted.

“I’m on vacation.”

“I’ll pay!”

“You can’t afford me!”

“You said you don’t agree with his hobbies,” Lavender said, “if we kill Mateo, he can’t hurt anyone anymore. But more importantly, he’ll stop bothering me!”

“You wanna kill a guy because he’s bothering you?” Fetch asked, raising a brow.

“He wants me to work for him again, but I can’t stand him anymore. He needs to be in control all the time and he drives me crazy!”

“Think logically,” Fetch said, surprisingly calmly, “say we do kill him…how many and what kind of people would we be pissing off?”

“His clients are all smallfry,” Lavender said, “they’ll be bummed, but they’ll probably return to gross internet sites to get their rocks off.”

“And you’re absolutely sure about this?” Fetch checked.

“Would I lie to you~?”

“Yes,” Fetch said, “but never mind. Fine. I’ll help…after my vacation, so get lost.”

“We might not have that much time,” Lavender said, “the reason he wants to work with me so bad is because he’s pissed at you for backing out of your deal.”

“So what? He doesn’t scare me,” Fetch said.

“We can use his anger against him though,” Lavender said, “that, and the fact that he hasn’t had a plaything in a while.”

Her eyes trailed to Erick, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Absolutely not, out of the question,” Fetch said.

“He’ll just be bait, he won’t get hurt,” Lavender said.

“D-do I get a say—”

“No!” Fetch and Lavender said in chorus.

Erick bit his lip, shrinking in his seat a bit, but he didn’t go quiet just yet.

“I was gonna say I’d do it,” he said.

“Aha! So that’s two against one,” Lavender said.

“We just agreed he doesn’t even get a say,” Fetch said.

“You really think we’ll ever agree on anything, Fetcher~?” Lavender said, “besides, since he’s on my side he gets a say.”

“God damn it you’re insufferable,” Fetch grumbled, extinguishing his cigarette on the table and flicking the butt at Erick.

He flinched slightly, before moving to pick it up to discard it.

“He won’t get hurt,” Lavender said, “surely you’re a good enough shot that you can kill him before he touches your precious little…assistant?”

“I’ll make a decision if we can come up with a…better plan than set up bait and hope for the best,” Fetch said.

“If you’re gonna tie me up, can you go easy on my elbows for a change?” Erick said, earning a snicker from Lavender.

“Oh for fuck’s— Why don’t you go to the store we drove past and get the things we discussed?” Fetch said, getting up to pull his wallet out of his pocket and pushing a small stack of bills into the teen’s hands.

“Milk, eggs, bread, cheese and whichever fruit looks freshest,” Erick recited, looking over the money and pocketing it.

“Exactly, now get lost, the grownups need to talk,” Fetch said, beginning to push him out of the kitchen.

“Alright, alright, I’m going…”

“Attitude!” Fetch warned, before slamming the front door closed.

“He’s got a lil more fight in him than I remember,” Lavender said with an amused grin.

“Don’t even get me started,” Fetch said with an exhausted sigh, “he still listens but he’s constantly talking back.”

“Good.” Lavender said, much to Fetch’s chagrin, “He’ll need it.”

<Prev | Masterlist | Next>

[honeymochibubbletea]

Goooood nighty night everynya!

Are you all okay? I hope so~!

So y’all may be familiar with this Oc that i showed on my recent post, right?

Isn’t he a cutie child~? (He doesn’t even look like he gives people trouble… hehehe~)

Let’s start with the basics, shall we?

Nykui is a Telltown Oc.

He’s 10 years old.

Nykui’s pronouns are he/him.

His height is 3’3 feet tall (please, if someone is reading my Ocs heights… have patience with me: i totally have 0 idea of how tall or short these are… just know that Oliver is shorter than the average height pattern for guys, Nykui is smaller than Oliver and Emilly is the tallest between them…)

He is surprisingly Brazilian despite the Japanese name, lol

His comfort zone: …his little hideout in the middle of the woods… (he has a treehouse… his bed is a grocery cart he managed to steal…) (and before you ask me how he managed to bring a cart up into a treehouse… he has his ways…); his comfort food: bungeoppang or bao; his comfort objects: a blankie and a small dog plushie; his comfort characters: . . .just any dad or mom figure he can look up to…; his comfort drink: ramune sodas (he likes collecting the bottles and shaking the little marbles inside, lol) and his comfort dessert: bolinhos de chuva aka cinnamon sugar beignet.

He may be very weak (considering he is a child), but he makes up the lack of strength with agility and witty ability.

He’s an orphan neko boy who never met his mother and his father died when he was 7… he absolutely LOATHES the idea of living in an orphanage thanks for the discrimination he suffered thanks for his heterochromatic eyes and… his mixed race…

His one and only phobia is… monophobia/eremophobia…

He is a little rascal and hellion: since he doesn’t want to be on an orphanage (he escaped two now), he lives inside the forest of the small town Telltown…

He only steals food or a few toys to entertain himself with…

His main goal is… to find someone who wants him…

Here’s some fun facts about Nykui:

Since he is a little troublemaker to most townsfolk, he doesn’t get along with Charlie… (she doesn’t do anything to jeopardize him… she only picks him up and takes him out of the store he was stealing from… or she grabs him by the back of his coat when he’s pickpocketing people… of course he scratches her good and run away as quickly as he can… and she only sighs in a disapproving manner…)

Nykui is very stubborn and easily tricked when you use the right words with him… he’s not naive, but if you offer what he craves most, you’ll mostly likely will have his attention…

Thanks to his cuteness and trickery, he can fool a lot of tourists that come to Telltown.

His best friend is Lena: she’s nice with him…

He also likes Oliver and Emilly: Oliver always offers him their house for him to sleep on cold winters and makes the best cinnamon sugar beignets when it rains :). And Emilly… even though she acts sometimes a little Tsundere-ish, she has a soft spot for the neko child… like secretly giving him some of the pastries of the cafe she works on.

I really like to think that Nykui managed to convince Carter, Charlie’s brother, to build the treehouse for him muehehe~ >:3

I’m going to post a “little” (may or may not be actually a long-ass fanfic but oh well) fanfic about his relationship with Phantasmo… i’ll leave you all in suspense~ Muahahaha! >:D

[stationintern]

The Big Gay Road Trip Of 2002

Rated M for language and sexually suggestive content.

Draco and Harry take a road trip. Draco likes belt buckles and Stetsons. Harry also likes belt buckles and Stetsons. He really likes them. He might like Draco a bit, too.

Harry’s not blind.

He knows Draco is attractive– has known, probably for longer than the last two months they’ve spent in the United States of Adamant Stupidity, as Draco likes to call it. 

He hasn’t ignored it, hasn’t even been trying to, and Draco doesn’t seem to mind all that much. Still, they have three more months of this to get through, and Merlin knows how quickly becoming involved with one another could go south. 

“I’m gonna show you Brits how to drink the American way.” Violet slurs, tossing her violently pink hair behind one shoulder. Her dark skin is tinged purple and green under the fluorescent lights of the bar.

It’s a disgusting place, and Harry loves it. They’ve been in Dallas for a week, and Violet has said the same thing every night so far.

They picked her up at a dive bar on their first night here, and haven’t been able to shake her. Neither of them particularly mind. She makes for good company.

“And what does that entail?” Draco asks, dropping into the squeaky vinyl seat next to Harry and passing him a Modelo. Harry pushes the lime in with wonder, just as he has every other night. 

Harry’s not blind.

Draco looks stupid good. All buttoned up in a black shirt that's just a smidge too tight across his toned chest, straining against the lean muscle there. At some point during their stay, he’s acquired multiple novelty belt buckles, and is currently sporting one that says Truckers Only, embossed with an image of a woman in a thong bent over a semi. 

The newest addition to his outfit makes Harry’s mouth water, and he gulps, thankful for the loud music drowning out the noise.

“Where’d you get the hat?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Draco smirks, tipping the rich brown Stetson in a way that would make any other tourist look stupid. Harry wants to rip his eyes out. It stands out against the icy white of his hair, and over the course of the trip Draco has earned himself a beautiful golden tan, making his skin several shades darker.

God, Harry wants to eat him.

“Yeah. Where’d you get it?” Harry’s mouth goes from embarrassingly wet to a mortifying state of parched. His words come out in a croak.

“A very kind cowboy placed it on my head along with this.” Draco pulls a folded up piece of paper from the brim of the hat, revealing a phone number, “Reckon I’ll give it a go.”

Harry now wants to rip his eyes out and crawl in a hole.

See, the trip happened like this.

Draco wanted to fuck an American, so, naturally, Harry offered to join him on a five month trip across the United States in order to join in on the fun. They dubbed it The Big Gay Road Trip of 2002.

Things are not going as planned.

“You don’t even have a phone, Draco.”

“When has that ever stopped me?” Draco drawls, before turning to Violet, “Before I was so rudely interrupted by my traveling companion and his utter lack of manners, I believe I asked you what drinking like an American entails.”

Violet perks up, slowly recovering after going too hard, too fast at the beginning of the night, “Well, the American way of drinking usually ends in line-dancing. At least, that’s how it is here.”

“So, I drink enough to the point where I’m willing to line-dance in front of complete strangers for the first time?” Draco reclines in the booth, his knee knocking into Harry’s innocently.

It’s not like they haven’t touched. Occasionally, Draco will get too grabby on the dance floor of some club they stumble into in a town they’re too drunk to remember the name of. A few times, one of them has had to carry the other one back to the motel after having a few drinks too many, and will try to make a desperate move, but they’ve never given in.

Harry is so close to ruining everything, and finds that he’s starting to not care.

He’s had one too many Modelos.

“Mhm.” Violet swirls the remnants of her pint, staring at the bottom of the glass intently, “I reckon we keep drinkin’, and you tell me when you’re ready to hit the floor.”

Draco holds up a finger, before downing the entirety of his beer in a matter of seconds. He takes a deep breath, releasing the loudest burp in the history of mankind.

Harry still wants him.

“How would you feel if Stetson guy saw you do that just now?” Harry asks, feeling incredibly petty.

“Very cool, I’d imagine.” Draco shrugs, impossibly cool, squeaking out of the booth once again, “Onto the next!”

Once Draco is out of earshot, Violet leans in conspiratorially, “So, ya’ll gonna do it?”

Harry startles, feeling too exposed all of a sudden. He leans in as well, “Do what?”

“Screw. Fuck. Bang. Dirty Dance. Make lo-”

“No. Stop.” Harry holds up an authoritative hand with a grimace, “We’re not gonna… screw.”

“And why is that, darlin’?”

“Because it’s a bad idea.”

“Just because it’s a bad idea, doesn’t mean you don’t want to.”

Harry knows that, but he also knows it goes deeper, “Listen, Violet. If we… banged, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

“What, like it doesn’t wanna go down-”

“No, no. Not like that. I just-” God, this sounds so stupid. “I think I'd only want to… fuck Draco. Like, forever.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. I mean, look at the guy.” Violet gestures to the dance floor, where Draco is currently grinding up against who he can only assume is Stetson man. He’s tall, dark and broad and everything Draco usually goes for when he’s looking to pull. She gets a pained look on her face, but the damage is already done, “Actually, maybe, probably, don’t look at the guy. Guys.”

“Really rubbing it in there.”

“Oops.” Violet shrugs, before pushing herself up from her seat, suddenly struck with inspiration, “Be right back.”

She hurries off toward the bar, and Harry has a few awful moments to himself, allowing him to stare at Draco and Stetson, twisting the knife further into his own heart with each second that passes. Draco spots him from the dance floor and shoots him a wink, and the knife penetrates deeper.

Violet returns from the bar with three shot glasses of clear liquid.

“Tequila.” She states, slamming them down on the greasy table, liquid sloshing out the sides, “Drink these. Then, go sweep that boy off his goddamn feet.”

“Absolutely no-”

“Absolutely yes.” Violet pushes the glasses closer, “He’s just doin’ this to rile you up. Classic move. He wants you to go out there and call his bluff.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“Then you go cry about it. Never know if you don’t try.” Violet pushes the glasses more, to where they’re at risk of sliding into Harry’s lap. “Now, drink up, Prince Charming. You’ve got a Princess to save.”

Harry takes a final glance at Draco and Stetson. Draco is rolling his hips devilishly and grinning the whole time, and Harry has well and truly had enough. Maybe this is the time to do it. Rip the band-aid off. See if any of those times Draco threw himself onto Harry the minute they’d stepped into the motel room meant anything. 

Harry downs the first shot, chasing it with another glimpse of Draco’s arse flush against Stetson’s crotch. The second. Then the third.

Violet pinches his cheek from across the table, and Harry gets a front-row ticket to the boob show, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Harry feels more like a kitten, but decides to do it anyway. He slides out of the booth, rubbing his sweaty hands on his dark wash jeans and mustering up any Gryffindor bravery he has left in his lust-and-sweat-soaked body.

The tequila hits, and the room turns into a tunnel, Draco shining bright at the end of it. 

Harry lets his feet do the thinking, and with each step his heart speeds up until he’s sure it’s going to explode. Draco stops dancing, and only then does Harry realize that he is mere inches away from him. Stetson man has quit dancing as well, simply doing a little shimmy off to the side. Harry shoots him a glare, and he shimmies to the left a bit more.

“Is there a problem, Potter?” Draco asks, more than a little confused. He looks beautiful like this. Covered in sweat and whatever else lives in this bar that hasn’t been cleaned since Voldemort was around the first time. 

Harry’s hands move for him, and soon he has Draco’s jaw cupped between his fingers, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t go home with him.”

Draco looks dumbfounded, pressing his lips together in a firm line, the blood draining out of his face. 

In a rush of movement, he bats Harry’s hand away, grabbing him by the sides of his face and pulling their bodies so close they might as well be one being. 

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for a month.” He murmurs, before claiming Harry with his lips, wet and filthy and all-encompassing. His hands grasp at Harry’s waist, finding their way to his arse and kneading it possessively. 

Draco pulls away after what seems like forever and not nearly long enough, reaching a hand up to pluck the Stetson off his head, before placing it gently on Harry’s. 

He presses another dizzying kiss to Harry’s lips. He tastes of lime and honey.

“I reckon I’ll be going home with you, instead…. pardner.”

Harry pushes him away in an instant, trying his damndest not to laugh, “God, Draco, you ruined it.”

“C’mon, buckaroo, don’t you wanna buckado me?”

Harry does. He really, really does.

[olivia091108]

DEFINITELY WILL

Summary:bam meeting one of the playbunnys. Based of season 3 episode 1 of viva la bam

Pairing:bam margera x reader

Word count:1032

I hear loud shouting coming from the gate and I look outside my window and see 3 men 2 of them seem my age and the other man is around 50 maybe shouting into the speaker that he wants to meet Hugh Hefner

Every tourist always comes to the mansion thinking they can just walk in so it’s nothing new but a black car pulls up and a very handsome man jumps out followed by his friends he looks oddly familiar but I can’t place his face

There’s no point me watching them from my window all they will end up doing is getting security called and get taken away. I finish getting ready and head downstairs when one of the girls pulls me towards the front door.

“There’s some boys here and you need to give them a little tour”

“Why me?”

“Because I don’t want to they have a weird man with them plus you are play bunny of the year. Good luck” she walks of after giving my ass a quick slap

Might as well get it over with

I step outside and see that the boys from outside earlier have been let in but the man has been tied up with tape to a weelchair.

“Hi boys” I say my eyes stuck on the handsome boy. “I’m y/n I’ll give you a little tour if you want”

For a couple seconds they all stared at me before someone answers” hi y/n I’m bam this is don vito he doesn’t understand the difference between a good touch and a bad touch so we’ve had to tie him up”

“Alright I’ll be careful standing too close to him” as I turn away I already see his hand reaching out before being restricted by the tape.

Bam catches up and walks next to me. “ me and my friends are building a Drive way skate park and we’re looking for a few things from famous people.”

Well how about after this tour I can see if you find anything for you” I stand even closer so my arm brushes against his when we walk.

I can’t keep my eyes off him his dark hair and blue eyes especially his rockstar attitude just make me like him even more

“That would be great thank you”.

Right as we get to the pool I feel a big hand squeeze at my bum which makes me jump a bit since I already know it’s from don Vito.

Before I can say anything they put his wheelchair on the ground so he’s stuck there and as they all brag about being able to go see the other girls bam gently takes my hand and pulls me along with him and his friends

After showing them around more and introducing them to some of the other bunnies i beckon bam over and he follows me into the mansion.

“I have just the thing for you” I hope this doesn’t come across rude but why do you need this for a drive way skate park”

I see his eyes shoot up to meet mine and he goes a shade of red since I caught him staring “ oh um it’s for my show on mtv”

“What’s it called maybe I’ve seen it?”

“Viva la bam”

“I think I watched an episode actually the one where you didn’t let your dad eat for 24 hours it was pretty funny”

He blushes even more after hearing that I’ve seen his show. I push my bedroom door open and immediately notice that I should of cleaned and try and pick up any clothes that have been thrown to the floor “sorry about the mess”

“Nah it’s all cool you should see my room”

“Maybe I should.” In shocked at myself for being so bold in never like this

“If you have your own show can’t you just ring up your famous friends”

“I could it’s just not as fun.”

“I probably shouldn’t be giving you this but here is one of Hugh’s famous robes he has plenty so hopefully he won’t notice. Wanna try it on?”

“Fuck yes” I laugh while sliding the robe onto him and I have to admit he still looks pretty hot.

He reaches his hands into the pocket and then pulls out a thong not just any thong my red sparkly thong. My face is probably redder than the robe and he picks up on that straight away.

“Can I keep this too….you know for the collection of course” he says with a smirk on his face. I nod and I feel my confidence rushing back agian

“You have given me the idea to start my own collection of things form famous people wanna be the first to add to the collection?”

“Y-yeah um anything in particular like my belt or sunglass-“

“How about a kiss”

“A kiss?yes yeah sure”

Seeing as he was quite a bit taller than me I reach on to my tiptoes and cup his face in my ands and slowly lean in while he bent his neck down as his arms snakes round my waist and I feel his soft lips connect with mine.

I pull away but just as I do bam pulls me back and the kiss is a lot more passionate than before. My hands move from his face round to his neck and his arms Slide Over my ass and onto my thighs supporting me by holding my ass and squeezing it every now and the as he easily lifts me up. I hear my bedroom door open and we both disconnect the kiss and he puts me back down on the floor.

“Oh sorry” his friend Ryan quickly apologises “kind of have to go or they are going to kick us out don vitos trying to touch all the bunnies”

“Yep I’ll be right there”bam tells Ryan before he leaves the room. I lock eyes and can’t contain my laugh as I see my lip stick has transferred to his a bit. As it dies down i reach onto my bedside table and grab my pink sparkly pen before rolling up his sleeve and writing my number down and a big heart next to it.

“Call me I’ve got to see your room sometimes remember”

“Oh I definitely will”

First try at writing I would love feedback

Liv

[hannahssimblr]

“Go play on that pirate ship thing,” I tell Ivy, “I’ll be over there on the swings.”

She looks up at me under the brim of her horrible frog hat. She made me buy it for her in the end of season sale at one of those tourist shops by the beach, “I'll go on the monkey bars. Will I show you my tricks?”

She's talking about how she can hold onto bars and spin herself in a circle, “Yeah, sure, I’ll just watch you from over there.”

She rushes over and throws herself up onto a bar, “And what if I want to go on the swings?”

“Well you can’t, not until I’m done talking to my friend.”

“Your girlfriend.”

“No” I plonk onto the wooden swing and wait, the cool air rustling through the bushes and lifting little bits of of twigs from the sandy surface of the playground. I swing myself idly, calling out unenthusiastic words of encouragement to Ivy as she spins and twists on the bars until I hear the playground gate squeak open. 

Clóda looks obliviously happy, out of her work uniform now and back in those teeny tiny shorts that would have had my eyes out on stalks a month ago. It's funny how quickly feelings can change. 

“You brought your sister along!” She says brightly as she approaches me, and I spot Ivy looking our way only to look away quickly with a stricken look on her face. I wonder if she associates Clóda with stranger danger and hot chocolate vomit. 

“I told my mom I was coming to the park, so she made me take her.”

“Aw, she’s so cute though!” She throws a thumbs up to my sister, “Nice job on those bars, yeah? You’re so good, do you do gymnastics?” 

Ivy doesn’t respond. 

“No, she doesn’t, she just likes the monkey bars,” I explain. 

Clóda’s smile is strained when she swivels back to me, “Well, how are you? I’ve actually been un-grounded for a few days now, I… have you been busy?”

“Not really.”

“Oh,” she digs around her hoodie pocket for a scrap of paper and hands it to me, “This is my MSN, my email and my Bebo for when you go home and you want to stay in touch. You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. I am.” 

“Well, I hope that we can still talk, and stuff, and maybe at midterm break I could get the train up to Dublin and-”

“Clóda, look,” I hand the paper back to her, still folded. “To be honest, I’m not going to be staying in touch with you anymore.”

Her face falls, “Why?”

“Because.” 

“Because?”

“It’s too much effort, I’m not bothered.”

Perplexed eyes fly all over my face, “Is it the distance? Because it’s only two and a half hours on-”

“No it’s not the distance, to be honest, it’s you.”

“Me? What did I do?” 

I sigh, “Your friends gave me a call the other night.”

“Which friends?”

“I don’t know, they were too busy giggling and screaming to give me names, and I could hardly even make out what they were trying to say, but I heard enough.”

“Enough…?”

“Enough to know that you’ve been bragging about me all over the place, making up stories about how I’m going to buy you a heap of stuff in America and whatever, I never said that.”

She shrugs, but she’s so tense now that it’s more like a jerk, “Well, so? You could do that, maybe, if you wanted to. You said you might get me Abercrombie stuff, I was just telling a few white lies about the other things, you know, to make them jealous.”

“Why would you even want to do that?” 

“I don’t know, I suppose they think it’s pretty cool that my boyfriend is so good looking, and like, that he’s American and stuff…” 

“Who said I was your boyfriend?” 

She hesitates, “Well, I thought-”

“Usually,” I say, gesturing to the space between us, “two people will have a conversation about that kind of thing, you can’t just say what you want, or like, just decide on your own what this is.”

She bites her lip, “But when we had sex I thought-”

“Oh God, people have sex, Clóda, why does it have to mean so much?” I raise my voice a bit and Ivy glances around in alarm. I wave her away.

“Maybe it doesn’t to you,” Clóda says, and her voice cracks a little, once again flooding me with guilt, “but for me, it’s-” she breaks off because instead of an inhale there is a gasp, like something related to a sob that brings me to the edge of taking it all back, but I grit my teeth, “We shouldn’t have ever done anything then, I’m sorry.”

“You regret it?”

I don’t answer her, we’ve lost sight of the point, suddenly, and I’m not completely sure how we got here, “Look, I just asked you here so that I could tell you that I don’t want us to hang out anymore after this summer. We don’t have to hash out all of the details-”

“It’s because you don’t like how I kiss,” She insists, “I wasn’t good enough at it.”

“No, that isn’t it, I-”

“It’s my dad. He’s put you off. Did he say something to you?”

“No.”

“Well then it has to be because I forgot my jumper when we-”

“No, Clóda,” I explode, “It’s because you’re mean. Because you’re not a nice person, okay?”

She blinks.

“You went around the caravan park telling everyone that Kelly Healy is a loser and she needs her mother’s help to make friends, that’s just such a mean thing to do, and I don’t understand why you would do something like that, especially now because everyone thinks that it was me who said it.”

She takes a break from looking pathetic to let her features twist into an unpleasant shape, “Oh, Kelly? But we don’t like her, that’s what you said.”

“What?”

“We laughed about her after going to Shane’s place, you said that she was weird, I didn’t think anyone would really care if I said it to a few people. It just came up, I don't know. Why does it matter?”

“Obviously because it’s a ridiculously horrible thing to do. You just told a load of the people she hangs around with something highly personal about her that you weren’t even supposed to know.”

A pause, “Yeah but she’s weird.”

I am incredulous, “God, Clóda, is this really how you think? Is that your reasoning? That if you don’t like someone then you can say what you like about them to whoever will listen? Why do you act like this, huh? I can’t believe how much time I wasted this summer hanging out with you. You’re ridiculous. You act like a child.”

She bursts into tears, “Well I’m fifteen! What do you want from me?” And she sobs, standing in place while I sit opposite, uncertain of what I am supposed to do next. Is this what fifteen is supposed to be? Sometimes I feel so detached from genuine teenage reality that I cannot possibly imagine how I am supposed to experience it. In some ways I feel twelve years old, in others, twenty, so far removed from the freedom and reality of proper teendom that I can't even imagine what fifteen feels like. Was I ever like her? 

“I think we’re too different,” I say finally, “I think that’s why we can’t hang out.”

“But I really like you,” she sniffles, while in the background Ivy hangs from the monkey bars by her knees, her ugly hat dropping onto the ground. 

“Look, Jude!” She calls, “I can do a new trick.”

“Yeah, amazing,” I say, “Make sure you don’t slip and hit your head, huh?”

“I wouldn’t!”

“Yeah, you might, and then what will I do, huh? Take you back home with your head cracked open?”

“I wouldn’t have to go back to school then.”

“Yeah, good one,” Maybe I’ll crack my skull open too. It feels like a genuine option to consider as I sit there with Clóda crying right in front of me, blocking my exit route. 

“I’m sorry,” I say to her, “It’s just not meant to be, I guess.”

“Okay.”

“Good luck with it all, yeah? The job and school and all that. I’ll probably see you around next summer.”

“You’ll be back?”

“Uh huh. Probably the summer after that too,”

“Oh.”

“It doesn't have to be awkward. We can just be normal.”

She sniffs, “Alright”

I look up at her from where I sit and take in the tears on her cheeks, the way her chest heaves with each gasp, and I tell her “You'll be alright.”

I get up and call for Ivy, “c’mon, we’re going home now.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“I wanted a go on the swings.”

I look around to see that Clóda has taken my place on the seat and is blubbering miserably into her sleeves. 

“Swings are closed,” I say. 

“Okay, well, you can take me tomorrow.”

“We’re going home tomorrow.”

“Early.”

“You want me to get up early?”

“Yes, you’re lazy, you should have to get up early like me.”

“Yeah but you have an incentive, I don’t care about the seven AM cartoons.”

“Well you should.”

I laugh, “Why is that?”

And she tells me why, and we walk out the playground gate and through the village, side by side with the last of the August sun on our backs. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[ginger-canary]

This Booth IS Big Enough for the Seven of Us

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 1938

Fandom: Dimension 20 (Web Series)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Pete Conlan | Pete the Plug/Sofia Lee, Sofia Lee & Esther Sinclair, Kingston Brown & Pete Conlan | Pete the Plug, Sofia Lee & The Dream Team, Pete Conlan | Pete the Plug & The Dream Team

Characters: Pete Conlan | Pete the Plug, Sofia Lee, Ricky Matsui, Esther Sinclair (Dimension 20), Kingston Brown, Misty Moore | Rowan Berry, Cody Walsh

Additional Tags: This started out as a joke now here we are, We didn't let Pete yeehaw enough okay

Series: Part 4 of I just think that Sofiapete

Summary:

In which i spend 1.5k+ words to make a single joke.

Pete wants to try out a new hangout spot. The hangout spot comes with a dress code. Fashion shenanigans ensue.

Because @hi-intrepid-heroes and I were joking once and I had to make it real

read it under the cut or follow this link to AO3

Culturally, Pete understood that all of New York was nothing like the south. Here, cowboy hats belonged to costumes and tourists. But New York was also one of the biggest melting pots in the world, so he figured that inviting the rest of the crew to this cool new western bar would be fun. 

“A western bar?” Sofia repeated, looking up from her phone. They were sitting on the couch in her apartment, Sof’s legs on Pete’s lap, relaxing after a long day. “Is this because you want to wear more cowboy outfits? You can do that anywhere, babe.”

“...Noooo.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Okay a little bit. But it’d also just be fun! We always go to the same places and get the same drinks and snacks, it’s time to change things up.” 

Sof smiled. “Are you sick of the usual chips and dip?”

“No. Maybe- a little bit. Diversity is good for the brain! Please?” He batted his eyelashes at Sofia. 

Sofia laughed. “It’s not me you have to win over, you already did that. Text the group chat, try and convince them.” She reached over and grabbed Pete’s phone from the coffee table. 

“Can you imagine Kingston’s initial gut reaction, though?” Pete said as he took his phone. 

“A western bar?” Sofia said in a deep voice, imitating Kingston. “That’s not New York. We’re on the east coast!”

“I wonder how many of them I can convince to dress appropriately.” He started typing a message, hyping up the new bar. “Cody’s definitely not going to do it.”

Sof leaned in, reading over his shoulder. “That depends. Is there a fully leather version of a a cowboy outfit?”

Pete pressed his head against Sofie’s. “Oh, probably but can you imagine the sweating he’ll be doing in that?”

She grinned. “I’m much more excited to go there now.” 

As soon as Pete’s message was sent, several of their friends started typing. “Is this because you’re obsessed with boiled peanuts?” Cody asked. 

 Sofia lifted her head. “He’s got a point there, is that it?”

“No, but it is a big bonus.”

“Do we have to dress all yeehaw-like?” was Kingston’s reply. 

“I’m down,” was all Esther replied with. 

“That’s my girl,” Sof grinned. Several more messages came in, the general consensus being a yes to the bar, if they were given time to go shopping for an outfit first. Pete wholeheartedly agreed and promised Kingston he'd help him out. 

Smiling, Pete turned to look at Sof. “So do you want to plunder my closet?” 

“Oh, naturally. She swung her legs off his lap and stood up. “Just tell me what you want to wear and I’ll plunder the rest of your closet.”

“It’s not all western style clothes in there.”

Sofia leaned down and kissed him. “Babe, your love for cowboy culture is showing. New Yorkers ain’t wearing fringe. It’s inconvenient.”

“How?” Pete asked, mostly staring at Sofie’s lips. 

“Get it trapped between the subway doors then ask again.” Sofia stood up, walking into the bedroom where a significant enough amount of Pete’s clothes lived. They didn’t exactly live together as much as both live in two places, which meant that clothes were everywhere. That’s what you get when both partners like fashion- but have very different styles. 

She opened the closet, poking around through shirts of various sheerness then sighed. She was going shopping with Esther anyway, why not leave it up to her to help make the decisions? That’s what best friends are for, after all. 

~~~

“Are we there yet?” 

Pete whipped his head around, snorting. “Really, Cody? We’ve been walking for half a block.”

“I miss my regular boots,” he whined.

Sof slowed down slightly, taking in what could only be described as “what if cowboys only had leather?” and tried to avoid laughing. “You squeak like a New York rat, why did you decide on this?” 

“He refused to pick anything reasonable,” Kingston shouted from the back. 

Cody rolled his eyes and flushed. “I wanted to look like myself, even in the cowboy bar.” 

“Congrats you look like… you.” Esther waved her hand at the outfit. “But louder.”

The group slowed to a stop outside The Apple Jack and Pete took this moment to inspect everyone’s outfits. From Ricky’s genuine boots and spurs, to Kingston's colourful cowboy hat he had to say everyone had succeeded in following the dress code. He’d gone with his favourite green boots and his fringe suede jacket, having left his brighter clothes to Sofie. Clad in red and black, Sof was the prettiest New Yorker lost in the south he’d ever seen. “Y’all ready?”

Cody shoved him aside. “Let me through, I’m tired of standing.” 

Laughing, the rest of the group followed him inside. The Apple Jack had a simple setup to keep the New York out of the Wild West; double doors. Behind the first was a large coat rack to leave your puffer jackets and scarves behind, a tall umbrella stand and a good doormat to clean your shoes on. Then when you were ready, you could enter through the swinging doors where a light layer of sand (and peanut shells) covered the floor. Mostly fake cacti covered large parts of the room, tables and stools looking just as breakable as in every bar fight in the movies. 

Against the far wall was a collection of booths, the patterning on the couches plaid and worn, the tables shiny and clean. 

Pete grinned, coming to a stop in the middle of the sandy bar. There was no way he could contain his excitement.

“Actually I kind of like this.” Esther came to stand next to him, nudging a peanut shell with the tip of her boot. 

Sof joined them, bumping her hip against his. “So, is it everything you wanted, Petey?”

“Well, it’s-” he was interrupted by Ricky tripping through the swinging doors. “Sorry ma’am,” he called over his shoulder. “But I’m taken. Please don’t slap my ass again.”

Esther groaned and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. “Babe, that was the door.”

Ricky straightened and put his hands on his hips. “Well it should still know I’m taken.” 

Laughing, Sofia moved towards the bar. 

“Ricky Matsui, everybody,” Pete whispered under his breath.

After a quick chat and some funny squeaking, they were all squeezed into the largest booth in the bar. Some quiet country rock was playing over the speakers as a curly-haired waitress moved towards their spot. She wore comfortable ripped jeans, a plaid shirt and the standard apron. “Howdy y’all, my name’s Lily and I’ll be your server today. What can I help you with?” She spoke with a southern drawl, tapping her pen against her notepad. 

Kingston leaned over the table. “Nice to meet you Lily. Do they make you talk like that?”

Sof slapped Kingston’s arm. “She’s not a prisoner!” 

“It’s okay honey, people ask me that question a lot.” She turned her attention to Kingston. “No they don’t make me talk like this, I’m from Carolina. I actually enjoy working here. It doesn’t remind me of home in the way most New Yorkers would expect but there’s something comforting about floorboards covered in sand and peanut shells.”

Rowan eyed the Southern girl for a second. “Have you considered that it might be the temperature here?”

Lily shrugged. “Probably. Whatever it is, I’m comfortable here. So what can I get y’all, before your friend slips and slides out of his outfit?” She leaned in, whispering, “is he okay?” into Rowan’s ear. 

Grinning, Rowan said “no” then proceeded to order a round of drinks for everyone. 

Biting on her lower lip, Sofia nudged Esther. “I think Rowan’s found a new toy.” 

“As long as she doesn’t get us banned from the bar, I think this’ll be fun to watch.” 

“I’ll bet you 10 bucks Rowan stops the moment her shoes get dirty,” Pete whispered. 

Sof watched the way Rowan got up and moved to the bar, leaning flirtatiously against the edge. “I’ll take that bet. The way that’s going, I think I already won.” 

Pete turned his head to see Rowan carrying their order of snacks to the table, Lily following in her stead. “Well that was a short bet. I’ve never seen her do manual labour before.” 

Kingston grinned, wrapping his hands around his drink. “Well I’ll be damned, it was worth coming here after all.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault you’re the vox populi of New York city.” Pete tossed a peanut shell at him. “Other cultures are fun to explore.”

“Yeah, like chinatown.” Ricky smiled and sipped his drink. “Hey Rowan, what is this?”

“Hm?” Rowan slipped back into the booth, her hand lingering on Lily’s arm. “I asked for a round of the best mocktails they had. And Pete’s peanuts, both boiled and regular.” She tapped her ironically neatly manicured fingers on Lily’s arm. 

Pete exchanged a look with Sof, watching Lily move her gaze from Rowan’s hand to her notepad. 

“It’s the cactus juice. Not literally cactus juice, of course, but bitter lemon with lime juice and mint. It’s our bestseller!”

“That explains why it’s green,” Kingston said.

“And sour.” Ricky pulled the face of a kid first tasting a lemon. 

Lily laughed. “I can always get you something else.” 

The dream team spent a few hours in Southern Roots, enjoying the music and snacks, watching Rowan flirt with Lily, and dancing around in the sand. As rain started falling outside the windows again, Sof wrapped her arm around Pete. “You know, I’m glad you convinced everyone to come here. It has potential, even if we have to dress up to fit in here.”

Pete raised an eyebrow. “Have you seen us?” He vaguely waved his hands at the people around the table. “We don’t fit in anywhere at all.”

“Yeah, our main test for every bar is whether or not we fit in a booth,” Esther added. 

Kingston nodded and grinned.“And if they serve good enough coffee.”

 “Hold on, Liz told me you were supposed to stop drinking so much caffeine.” Pete scrunched his eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m very sure she told me that.” 

Kingston tried to hide a smile. “I’m fine, she worries too much.”

“Uhuh nice try, decaf for you.” Sof prodded at Kingston’s arm. “We can’t have you dealin’ with health issues just because you love bean juice so much.”

“Well if we keep coming here that should be fine,” He said, inspecting the menu. “There’s about 20 different drinks I haven’t tried yet and none of them contain caffeine, right?” 

Lily nodded and pointed out some of her favourites as Rowan slid her arm around Lily’s waist. 

Sof kept in a laugh and exchanged a look with Pete, who wiggled his eyebrows. There were many things Rowan was- but subtle had never been one of them. As long as whatever was blooming over there wouldn’t end in heartbreak, it seemed that they’d be coming to the Apple Jack more often. “So,” Sof said, “what do you think? Was it a success?”

Pete looked around the table at their group. “Oh absolutely.” He lowered his voice and added, “if we can get Cody out of those pants.”

As time went on, the Apple Jack was added to their roulette of hangout places, as Lily was to Rowan’s list of… whatever she wanted to call it, which meant Pete owed Sofie ten bucks. Later on that night, they all had an unfortunate time trying to get Cody out of his leather outfit- but hey, that’s what friends are for, right?