easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy: post your character, canon, and preferences in the subject line. tag to others. CONGRATS! one of your characters has the misfortune of working a kissing booth.
Gaila swallowed as she stepped up to the booth. A bet was a bet, and she was trying not to show how scared she was. About to kiss the dark slayer. Or possibly to have her neck broken. This was ridiculous. She'd walked into vampire nests with nothing but her wits, but The Slayer had until recently been the monster under the bed. And now there were hundreds, with the Dark Slayer being one of the worst. Then she closed her eyes and leant in.
[I hope you don't mean Karin from Karin {aka Chibi Vampire}. Any preference in who has the kissing booth? I don't mind either, but I always try not to presume something.]
Walking past the small booths offering her what realistically was giant things of sugar, she rose a brow at the site of the kissing booth nooked in bright red between the popcorn stands. For a moment her mind went off into a tangent as to how exactly unhygienic the whole thing was, but when her eyes landed on the familiar brunet inhabiting the booth, her thoughts quickly vanished into silence.
"This isn't exactly what it means to reach out, Stiles."
It was about the same as any other day, really. Except candy. Lucas didn't mind that part so much, or even being single for the occasion, mostly because of previous said candy. It makes any day better, really. He was just slightly worried what this zany memecity was going to through out there for a holiday like this one.
Already, he'd seen some seriously fucked up things going on, so he'd rather not add holidays to that list.
He had been poking around in the shops, though, looking for anything that struck his fancy candy-wise but was coming up empty handed. Until he came up on a rather curious looking stand, something like an elementary kid would make to sell lemonade. Only, it wasn't a lemonade stand and that sure as hell wasn't a fifth grader manning the booth.
"...Aggy?" Lucas was trying desperately not to laugh at the sight of the AI standing beneath something that read 'Kissing Booth'. "Fancy meeting you here, dude."
[Of all of the situations to be in, she didn't quite expect it to be this. Her face flares with heat as she averts her gaze, scratching the back of her neck nervously.]
Spotting him sitting cozily inside of the kissing booth, a low scowl casted across her features, giving a signature roll of her eyes as she watched in disgust at the number of woman that seemed more than willing to plant one on him. I mean, not that she could blame them. Been there, done that. And thankfully it had been before all of these desperate, mindless girls put their grimy lips to his.
Narrowing her eyes almost as if in pity she muttered up once the line had come to its end, for now. "Is this really what you've downgraded to?"
[In all fairness, questions of how the booth came to be or why are easily eclipsed by the fact that this is exactly something Fandral the Self-Proclaimed Dashing would do. And all for a nominal fee of absolutely nothing.]
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