#she was cute and easier to do some tricks on cause she was lighter

[send-me-a-puffalope]

I remember you talking about your knife right after it happened... Still feeling sorry for you 😭

Nearly had the same thing happen to me too a few months after you posted your story... It wasn't even something in my hand luggage...

I miss her so much,,, she was less than a year old 😭😭😭 god this ask makes me want to impulse buy a new balisong. my problem is that the only somewhat affordable balisong that’s also good quality (and also which had a good design) is the squid industries mako. but idk if I want to get another mako since my previous balisong was an inked mako but GRAUGHHHHGHHJJJJJJJJJ EXPENSIVE.

[justkending]

Is that seriously your password? (Birthday One-shots)

Prompt: Is that seriously your password?

Challenge: justkending Birthday drabbles and one-shots

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2100+

A/N: This was asked for a by anon, so thank you to whoever you may be! I thought this was cute little one-shot once it came to me! Also, coming up with the password took me a seconds, but then I heard Sebastian's voice in my head and well... Here we are;)

“Hey FRIDAY? Who all from the team is in the compound?” Y/N shouted from Tony’s lab where she was working on a new piece of equipment for her uniform. 

“Everyone is out either on a mission or off the compound premises for personal business,” the AI responded. “However, Sergeant Barnes is in the living room reading.” 

“He works. Can you ask him to come down here?” she continued, never breaking from her computer screen she was typing away on in front of her.

“Of course,” FRIDAY responded before going quiet for a minute and speaking back up. “He seemed rather confused by the request, but he’s on his way.”

“Always paranoid that one,” Y/N mumbled before shouting a thank you and going back to typing a storm. 

A few minutes later, Bucky cautiously peaked through the glass doors to the lab and saw Y/N completely entranced in whatever she was working on in front of her. She was typing and scanning the screen quickly and then immediately turning to a notebook beside her to write whatever it was down. 

“Why are you calling me down here out of all people?” he said almost concerned. 

“Because everyone else is either fighting bad guys or off away from the compound doing their own thing,” she responded, finally breaking away from her computer screen upon hearing his voice. 

“Oh,” he nodded before looking around and hesitantly coming in more. 

He didn’t care to come down to Stark’s personal man cave much. Tony still threw sarcastic insults and passive jokes at him every once in a while even though they had made up and moved on. But it was Tony. He was kinda that way with everyone. Either way, they only really crossed paths if they absolutely needed too. 

“Here, come here for a second,” she waved him over, pushing back her chair as she stood up and stretched some. 

Bucky listened even though his face showed he was confused and hesitant about it all. It wasn’t Y/N either. They were actually good friends after all the missions and team dinner and movie nights of getting to know each other. They shared a lot in common. She was an old soul for a pretty young member of the crew and Bucky admired that. Because of her mannerisms and interest, they got a long rather quick. It made it easy for them to instantly click. 

“What are you doing?” he asked when he saw her raise her hands and projections of pieces of her suit for missions popped up in pieces in the air with what looked like notes and statistics floating around them. The blueprints for it all lit up in front of them without a screen to stay on. He may never get used to the advancement of technology because anytime he saw something new, something crazier would pop up soon after.

“I came up with some new little tricks for my suit. It’s not not a bad outfit, but there’s always something new that can be better and improved,” she shrugged, moving the pieces around in the air with her fingers. 

Oh yeah, and next to Tony and Banner, the woman could maneuver through almost any form of technology as if it was as easy as learning how to count to 10 on your fingers. 

“I only have the metal on the bottom of my boots, and it’s worked for this long. But, I feel like there’s ways I can discreetly add more throughout the suit without weighing it down, making it easier to maneuver when I’m airborne.”

Another note to know, Y/N was an enhanced. She had the ability to bend and manipulate any form of metal. So the metal that Tony had built into her shoes made it to where she could lift herself off ground level and fly. However, through trial and error, they noticed that they couldn’t really add it to many other places as it weighed her down and made fighting a lot less agile. Don’t get it wrong though. She made it work. She just preferred it to be better. 

“Sounds like a smart idea.” He paused in the silence as she continued to analyze the layout in front of her silently. “Did you just want company to show off that big brain of yours, or am I supposed to give you an opinion?” 

He was sassy with her. She was sassy back. It was the way of their friendship for the most part. 

“No, Barnes. I need you to give me your password,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him with a stink face before moving back to the computer. He chuckled at her facial expression and followed her to her setup. 

“Why do you need my password? You have your own account,” he questioned, watching as she went to log into the files under SHIELD's confidentials. 

“No, actually. Mine went caput last night,” she huffed. “Some weird glitch happened, don’t ask me how because you would think Stark tech is more advanced, but whatever caused it made my account go haywire. In saying that...” She clicked a few more things moving faster than Bucky could keep up with on the screen. Then she turned to him and leaned back on the counter. “Tony was supposed to make me a new one or fix it, but he bailed on me today for brunch with Pepper... In Capri.” She let out a big breath. “So until he gets back, I’m at a standstill getting the information I need to fix this.” The smile on her face showed she was done telling her story. 

“So you need my password to get confidential information?” he asked, crossing his arms and putting his weight onto one leg. “What kind of confidential stuff are we talking here because I don’t need Tony going through my history and asking me questions I can’t answer,” he pointed with raised eyebrows. 

“Highly doubt he cares or has the time to go through your history, Buck,” she laughed, turning back around and raising her hand with a swift motion bringing the chair to her without actually touching it. 

Bucky looked down at it as it moved and noticed the metal base of it. He was always shocked anytime she used her powers. For one, she was rather graceful with her own for the most part, so the act of watching her do it, was somewhat mesmerizing. But also, he was still trying to wrap his head around people born with abilities like that. Wanda really threw him for a loop the first time he met her. 

Shaking out his head and following to stand by where she was sitting, he argued with her statement. 

“Yeah, I’d think about that again,” he winced. “Out of all the people Tony is going to keep an extra eye on, who do you think it is?”

Y/N paused and turned to him scrunching her nose. 

“Ok, yeah you’re right,” she nodded. Bucky sent her a look in agreement. “But I promise it’s not for anything crazy. I just want to find a resource for the lightest metal we can get our hands on. I think if I can get some of that, I can place it throughout my suit to not weigh it down as much and make any hand to hand combat about 100x easier and more fluent.”

“Sounds like a solid plan. What file do you think is going to hold something like that?” he nodded, crossing his arms again and leaning his backside on the table facing her in her chair. 

“The same one that talks about vibranium,” she sassed some. “I just want to run some analytics to see my options on what will be most malleable for the suite. Some metals may be lighter, but that doesn’t always mean suitable for tons of kinesthetic motions.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he shook his head, smiling at her. 

“I know. I got the beauty and brains,” she smiled with a shrug, but she was playing around. Y/N was never one to boast about herself. She was as humble as Tony was egotistical. “Ok, enough small talk. What’s your password, Barnes?”

All that was left to do on the page she had pulled up was type in said password and she was in. 

“Uh, I don’t really want to say it outloud,” he said, becoming bashful all of a sudden. His arms tightening around him self consciously. 

“Why?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head. “Scared I’ll remember it and hack your account? May just search for some things that Tony would love to tease you about.”

“Haha,” he said flatly. “And no. I know for a fact you would never do that. You’re too nice for that,” he responded. “It’s just. It’s an embarrassing password.”

“It can’t be that bad. Come on, just say it Mister so I can get my research done!” she persisted, poking his flesh arm. 

“Here, let me just type it,” he said, moving to the keyboard. 

“Nuh-uh,” she said moving the keyboard with a flick of her wrist out of his reach. Damn practically everything for having some form of metal in it. “I’m too intrigued now. I want to know what it is…” The mischievous gleam in her eye showed Bucky he probably wasn’t going to win this. 

“What happened to your sweet innocent self?” he said slightly shocked by her antics, but not able to hold back a chuckled. 

“It’s her off day today. She needed a break… And a little fun,” she smiled wider. “Come on. Just tell me. I promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“I don’t think you can keep that promise.”

“Have I ever not?” 

“I mean that one time when you promised to make chocolate chip pancakes because I was having a bad day, and then ditched me for a mission,” he noted. The fake hurt was exaggerated in his eyes. 

“Hey! I have no control over when something like that comes up,” she pointed at him. “You know that too on a personal level.”

“Still never got those pancakes though,” he said, letting out a disappointed sigh as he shook his head. 

“Ugh, fine. How about this?” she started, leaning back in her chair. “You tell me your password, and if I laugh then I go make you those famous pancakes now. If I don’t laugh, you have to drop that whole thing and not bring it up again.”

He weighed his options watching her. The two staring into each others eyes bargaining in silence. Sure Bucky didn’t want to say his password, but worse case scenario she laughed, maybe teased him a litt, but he got pancakes. And he knew she would laugh… 

“Fine. But just know, I like my pancakes with extra chocolate,” he sighed, relaxing his muscles some. “And whip cream.”

“Won’t need to. I’m tough enough to not react to whatever it is,” she smiled, bringing the keyboard back over. “Ok, so what is it?”

He stayed silent for a minute. God, he hated saying it outloud. Not that he really ever had to, but still. It was embarrassing. 

“It’s… It’s WienerSoldier1917,” he mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N said with wider eyes. She heard him, but she was wondering if she heard him right. 

“The W and S are capitalized…” he practically whispered looking down. When he didn’t hear a response but insead deafening silence, he looked over seeing her biting her lip and trying her best to suppress a laugh. Her face became slightly red and her eyes started blinking fast as she tried to pull herself together. “Yeah, I’m definitely getting those pancakes,” he sighed with a shake of his head, not being able to hold back his own soft smile. 

Not even two seconds later, Y/N was in a laughing fit. Practically falling out of the chair. If Bucky hadn’t caught her when he did, she would have gone over the side and brought the chair down with her, but he casually kept the chair from tipping with one arm. 

“Oh, that’s just too good,” she finally got out after a few minutes of full on, stomach aching laughing. She wiped her eyes at the few tears that had come down and shook her head. “Is that seriously your password?”

“You know Tony came up with it! And he knows I don’t know how to change it!” Bucky defended.

“Oh, Tony. What a comedian…” Y/N sighed, catching her breath. “Ok, back to business.” She typed in the password not being able to hold back yet another round of laughs as she typed it out. Bucky just rubbed his temple as she went about her research and giggled. 

After pulling up a few things, she turned to him.

“Ok, I own you a batch of pancakes now,” she smiled, standing and organizing the desktop. “I’ll come back and finish up down here later.”

“You’re not even upset you laughed, are you?” Bucky said following her in step to the door. 

“Oh, I knew I was going to already with how you were acting. I also knew I was hungry and up for something sweet anyway,” she shrugged. “Win, win for me.”

“You’re a punk,” Bucky faked shock, nudging her shoulder with his own before opening the door for her. 

“Eh, like I said. Sweet-innocent Y/N, as you called her, has a day off,” she smiled up at him before wrapping her arm through his. “Hey, and after breakfast? I’ll show you how to change your password,” she looked up at him with a wink.

The two chuckling and talking as they walked upstairs arm and arm to the kitchen.

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @marvelfansworld @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​​  @xostephanie​​ @averyrogers83​​ @awesomenursingstudent​​ @gh0stgurl​​ @cs-please​​ @carls1022​​ @jjlevin​​ @rainbowkisses31​​ @carls1022​​ @anise-d-castle6​​ @deannotmoose​​ @their-bibliophile​​ @kitkatd7​​ @willowbleedsonpaper​​ @mariaenchanted​​ @snffbeebee​​ @couldabeenamermaid​​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​​​ @charmedbysarge​​​ @jbarness​​​

@bellamy-barnes​​​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​ @death-unbecomes-you​​​ @heyiamthatbitch​​​ @lizzymacy555​​​  @srrymydood​​​ @xa-dia​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​ @morganclaire4​​​ @connie326​​​ @captain-asguard​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky​​​ @shower-me-with-roses​

[raevenlywrites]

A bit of the Twins

Felt really inspired on this scene, so I thought I'd share. If you remember Lawrence Crane (Bird) and his sarcastic demon, then happy day for you cause here it is again, bothering Bird's sons. Well, "happy" is maybe a bit generous :/

1.6k, angst/trauma memories, dark magic, inherited problems

--

“The cliff is called Lovers’ Last Kiss.”

"How romantic."

A shivering voice came from the darkness, or more specifically, from a patch of darkness that was deeper than the rest, more solid. And vaguely human shaped.

It stepped from the trees but became no less clear, just a shadow extending farther than the tree should be able to cast it. It reminded Orai instantly of how his father's shadow had been Wrong.

"Love has nothing to do with it, my little duckies. Kissing, maybe, but it's the joining that matters, not the emotions or lack thereof."

A wave of revulsion struck Orai and Iaro both, different ends of the same awful moment of their father's history. A girl, chained and struggling, blood and bruises the only things covering her skin. A boy, equally bound and beaten, if that would be more to his taste. And the sour/metallic rage/horror that burned up his throat as the first prickles of magic kissed his skin. He knew that magic, the heady sweet whispering of Cretia's promises of love and devotion--twisted. He had never experienced something so hideous in his life, and he was meant to wield it?

No one said against who, boy.

The voice echoed with the same shivery duality of the too dark shadow's, and both boys broke from the vision/memory with a gasp.

"What the fuck," Orai panted, doubled over on his hands and knees. Spit dribbled from his open mouth, the sickly tang herald of bile yet to come. Beside him, Iaro had not been so lucky. Every bit of dinner came back up and then some.

Damira knelt at Iaro's side, though she kept the shadow in view. She stroked a cool hand over his forehead, brushing away the sick sweat and chasing his hair back.

Khat had instantly put herself between the shadow and the group, a wall of fire hovering midair between them. The flames did nothing to give detail to the dark form.

"Are you alright, Orai?" She called behind her, unwilling to take her eyes from the thing in front of her.

Damira cupped her hands, calling cool water to them as she offered it to Iaro to drink.

"No need to hold onto those nasty memories, my lovelies. Call of your guard mara and I'll eat them back up for you."

If a formless shadow could hold up its hands in a gesture of harmlessness, the one before them did now. It was less seeing and more seeming, and it seemed to be contrite, and a little wistful.

"If I had a prettier way to show you, I would have. But we all have things that Bind us to this world-- well, maybe not this world."

It looked around the dreamscape, shimmering and shifting as it did. The darkness tried to take on a shape, but the two shapes were so opposed they seemed to cancel each other out.

"Its a nice place you've got here. A nice antithesis to its birth. Lovers' First Kiss Island. Cute."

Khat's eyes narrowed, and she called back, "Orai?"

It was Damira who answered. "Draw down the fire, but stand ready."

Clenching her teeth, Khat did so, pulling the fire back into herself, but not fully extinguishing it there.

Orai watched the shadow approach, knowing he knew this spectre from somewhere. It felt like staring into the void, like brushing uncle Naj's power, but different.

"That'd be the Dai bindings, sweets. We all feel a little bit the same, those of us brushed by their evil. Now, may I eat those nasty memories again?"

Orai's eyes widened, as if dilating would make more light bounce off the nothing. But that’s what it was. Not a shadow. An absence of light.

"You're dad's demon."

The being seemed to smile.

"He likes to think so. May I?"

It offered the idea of a hand, and trembling Orai looked to Iaro.

Iaro desperately did not want to scan anymore of the thoughts around him. Not Damira's, not his brother's, and most definitely not the nothing's. But his brother was reaching out. And he would not let his brother down.

He sat up, leaning back into Damira's touch, shielding tighter than he ever had before.

"I don’t want to feel like that ever again."

His voice was low but firm, betraying none of the horror he’d felt.

"I can arrange that," the nothing said.

"I wasn’t talking to you!" Iaro snapped. To Orai, he asked, "Do you trust it?"

Orai was surprised to find the answer was yes.

"Its been with dad for a long time. That's a stupidly long con, if its goal is to harm us now."

Iaro frowned, still not quite ready to unclench.

"Damira? Khat? Any insight?"

Damira smoothed his hair back, feeling her spine straighten as she looked at the darkness.

Her voice low and even, she told Iaro, "If it intended harm to any of us, it would be stupid to intend it on a literal island of our power."

The shadow radiated pleasure and pride.

"Very good, little fish. You should hold onto this one, son of my tether. She's very wise--and very hot."

Iaro grit his teeth so hard they cracked.

"If you speak out of turn one more time I will blast you back into the oblivion from which you first crawled."

Dominion was definitely his brother's gift rather than his own, but Iaro knew his words were not empty. "Son of my tether" was weird, and formal. In it's own way, the nothing was... what? Offering fealty? Trying to sink new tethers? He didn’t care. He would banish this thing and not feel at all bad. He did not like this thing.

Orai reached out, brushing Iaro's arm. Iaro flinched, scales bursting out at the touch. But that action helped soothe him, helped balance out his uncharacteristic display of temper.

"Ia, please. What about dad?"

What about dad indeed. He was mythically old, supposedly. Looking at this darkness, he could believe it. But he also knew if this wretched thing was the only thing keeping his father alive, then better he fall than be sustained by such wrongness.

But it would break Ruby’s heart, and destroy Orai's trust in him. For that, he would let the shadow remain.

But the shadow didn’t need to know that.

"Dad's got plenty of tricks that have nothing to do with this thing." He shot a glare towards the shadow. "Isn’t that right?"

"Exactly so, eijye."

Iaro growled. "Don’t mock me. But thank you for holding your peace. Show us your good faith by taking the memories and nothing more."

"As his father's heir commands."

Orai waited for Iaro to move first. But apparently his suddenly commanding brother was going to watch the shadow for any tricks. Fine then. The sooner Orai was free of this Seeing, the better.

Orai reached for the nothing, and felt a distinct Something, but nothing his mortal mind could name. Still, he was utterly and acutely aware of the thing taking, of a real and quantifiable quality leaving his being. And he was all the better for it. His breath came easier, his body felt lighter, and the air tasted sweeter, almost a tingling quality of delicate starlight kissing his skin. He looked up and saw the stars dancing above him, winking and singing in their endless joy.

"Much better," the shadow murmured. "Such wonderment is more fit this place. I quite approve of your solution for the waste magic, by the way."

"You've said as much," Iaro spit out. More tenderly, he asked his brother, "Rai? You good?"

Orai nodded, feeling the coolness of open tears streaming down his face. He hadn't realized how awful he felt until it was gone. How awful he’d been feeling, for a very, very long time.

He looked to the shadow.

"How far back did you go?"

Iaro's head snapped to the thing, but Orai held out an arm to stop him. The shadow seemed to nod.

"Very shrewd, brother of the heir. I could make the effort to speak plainly, but I have thought in riddles for so long, and it takes much of my attention simply to be here while the father is yet awake."

"Answer the question," Iaro insisted. He didn’t like the nuance of this things phrasing at all.

"Of course. Memory it was named but not memory of the sort called by yellow scales. I lifted the memory of your father's taint, o brother of the heir. And if you so wish it of me, he who speaks with the air of his fathers, I will lift if from you as well."

Iaro was about to order it to speak plainly, but again, Orai bid him hold.

"You mean like a lingering effect, something that ties us to you or the Dai or whatever, inherited from our father's half of the magic."

The shadow nodded. "Just so, my tether's son. It is the greatest thing that connects us, so it has the loudest pull. By your leave, I took the stain of it back into myself, from whence it came. Your magic and person is now free of it."

Iaro gave a soft gasp of understanding.

"That's what drew Damira to me, to us. We shared the magic of Dreaming, and Orai and I shared magic to command the stain."

The shadow clapped in delight. Orai thought he almost saw it do it. Almost.

"Very good, heir of my tether. Well sussed. You have an eye for threads."

Iaro frowned but didn't say anything.

“So what do we do?” Orai asked. Though whether he was asking it of the shadow or his brother, he wasn’t sure.

Iaro’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean…” There was no delicate way to put this. “If that’s what made this all work, what happens when it’s gone?”

[descendantofthesparrow]

Multipart Commission work - Harry Hook x reader - A Prince Behind the Pirate - part 6 - a new deal

@musicarose​

=

An hour later Mal came back, her eyes glowing a soft green and her face scrunched in anger. “she wants the wand for Ben” she growled, Evie's jaw dropped.

“there's no way we're just gonna give Uma the wand, we can't just let her destroy auradon!!!” you bit your lip, watching as the four vks yelled about Umas deal.

“if Uma doesn’t get the wand then Ben is toast” Carlos huffed, Evie threw her hands up in frustration.

“Yeah, we’re just going to give Uma of all people the wand!”

“guys!” Mal interrupted, gesturing to Carlos “your 3D printer!”

“a phony wand” you muttered, smiling as Carlos's eyes brightened.

“in my sleep!” Evie butted in once more.

“but the second Uma tests it she’ll know its fake!”

“so we just get Ben out fast we need some kind of diversion” Jay perked up, looking to Mal.

“smoke bombs!” Mal grinned and pointed at him.

“that’s perfect I can get the chemicals I need from lady Tremaine's place that could work!” she walked over to Mal and touched her hair smiling “sick hair by the way evil stepmom seriously stepped up her game!”

Mal brighten and started to comb through her hair. “okay, you wanna know something? Dizzy did this!”

“little Dizzy shut up!”

“I know it's like a lot lighter”

You looked at the boys and they sighed, jay coughing and Carlos speaking up “hello!?!”

The girls stopped and pressed their lips together in an apologetic smile. “okay!” Mal clapped her hands together “boys, you head back to Auradon, (y/n) you go with them-“ you shook your head, Mal blinking wildly as you stood.

“no! im staying right here, I know as soon as I get back Jay and Carlos will leave me behind, im not leaving my best friend on the isle” Mal was shaken by your determined gaze, she nodded slowly and turned back to the boys.

“Alright so you two head back to Auradon and print the wand, and meet us at pirates bay no later than noon. And you guys?” she paused, looking to each of you. “losing? Not an option…cause we’re rotten”

“to the core” the others finished, smiling softly at each other.

Mal nodded and looked at you “stay here, its safer in here than walking around with us to the salon okay?” you sighed and flopped back on the couch.

“yeah yeah I get it, don’t move” you grumbled, picking at your nails.

“let's do this” Evie laughed, grabbing her jacket and walking out with Mal, the boys running out a moment later.

“I guess I’ll just sit here and wait” you muttered, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

You should have brought a book or something.

=

“princess is going to trick us im sure of it” Uma muttered, pacing around the deck, Harry and Gil sitting on barrels a few feet away. “we need a new plan, something that involves Ben but differently”

“there was this really pretty girl that was with Evie and the others, she kinda looked like that girl on the tv who was planning cotillion!” Gil offered, snacking on a stolen half eating granola bar.

Uma stopped, then grinned “Gil….sometimes you speak up right at the perfect moments” she cackled, walking over and patting his shoulders.

Gil smiled and continued to eat, Uma beginning to plan with Harry.

=

They should know better than to leave you alone with nothing to do other than explore.

You sat on the rooftop near the hideout, glaring at the clouds above you. You couldn't see a single star, the brightest thing was Auradon city across the Strait of Ursula.

You sniffed, coughing slightly from the thick smog. You should have pushed Ben more to continue his vk reform plan.

There were so many kids here who didn’t do anything, you had a strong feeling that the only reason Uma wanted to take over the world was that she had been forgotten and abandoned by Auradon.

your mind drifted to the little girl from earlier, no child deserved to starve to death, your hands gripped onto your sleeves tightly, glancing down at your bag, still having some fresh food inside.

“well well well~” you squeaked in fright and hopped to your feet, spinning around to see Harry, the boy from earlier who had kidnapped Ben “what do we ‘ave here~ a lost princess~”

You sighed and slumped your shoulders, tilting your head at him “is there something you need with me?” he seemed surprised at your lack of fear but brushed it off.

“aye, the deals changed” you knew your face showed surprise when he giggled ‘cute’ you thought, eyes widening as that thought came to your mind ‘okay brain we do NOT go there right now’

“wait what do you mean?” you slightly panicked, backing up. You yelped, feeling the edge of the building, you lost your balance, starting to tip over the edge. you watched as Harry's eyes widened and he launched himself at you, grabbing your waist and jumping back.

“Holy sh*t lass!” he yelled, pushing you away from him towards the middle of the roof “be careful, we need yeh alive an’ well not dead and in pieces on the floor!!” you took a shaky breath and fell to the floor, holding your head in your hands and trying to get control of your heart.

“t-thank you” you muttered, hearing his voice stop, you looked up, seeing him look down at you surprised.

“uh….yer…wel..come?” he muttered confused, rubbing his arm. He shook his head, walking over to you and grabbing your jacket, forcing you to your feet. “come on, yer takin Bens place for ransom”

“But why?” you asked, Harry, sighed.

“We have reason ta believe that Mals gonna trick us, so Uma changed targets ta yeh, so come on” you dug your feet into the roof, easily stopping Harry.

He looked back, his face scrunching up in frustration “would yeh just-!” you pouted and shook your head. “tell me what you want!”

“I already did!” he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air “Uma jus’ thinks beasty boy would actually be able ta get the wand without lookin like he was stealing it fer himself!”

“he won't though” you muttered “only FG can get the wand, it has a magic barrier around it only she can disable”

“fu- are yeh serious!” Harry facepalmed “alright! New plan! yer gonna be our ransom for whatever we need” you sighed and let him drag you away that time, you’d rather Ben be safe in Auradon to lead it than you being in Auradon worried for ben.

Besides, you could handle yourself, thanks to those lessons from the dream boy.

=

Mals jaw dropped as Ben entered the hideout “Ben!?! What are you-wheres (y/n)?!”

“she took my place, Uma wanted her to be in exchange, something about me being more able to get the wand”

“but we already sent Jay and Carlos to print a fake one!”

“they know Mal, she already figured it out, that’s why she wanted (y/n), because with me in Auradon I could actually meet her demands easier”

Mal screamed in frustration. “fine!! I'll take my bike back and go tell the boys uuug why does shrimpy always have to make everything so difficult!”

=

You sat in the brig, slightly surprised by how clean it was.

“what, thought we were gonna throw you in the dirtiest cell we got?”

You looked to Uma and shrugged “I guess?”

Uma laughed and rolled her eyes “well I don't know what Malsy told ya, but we have a bit of honor among us pirates, besides, the better shape you're in, the more things well get in return”

She walked out of the brig, her heels sounded against the wood.

“sleep tight princess~”

--end of part 6 --

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i’ll walk through hell with you

chapter 2: i guess truth is what you believe in

read chapter one

read on ao3 here

Amy and Leah visit family, a holiday is celebrated, and illness takes over the Santiago-Peralta household.

december

If there is one thing Amy is certain of, stuck in the car with 97 miles to go and an overtired toddler in the back seat, it is that something must be seriously wrong with her. 

No one in their right mind says yes to a family weekend upstate with all siblings and their families nine days before Christmas. Not when it’s a three-hour drive. Not while they’re already left alone to care for their child for the weekend due to a time-sensitive and crucial opportunity coming up in a case Jake has worked for two months. Not when previously mentioned child is recovering from a cold and is ten times more cranky and attention-craving than normal. 

Except - apparently - Amy.

She doesn't know what the fuck she was thinking. 

She knows some thought went into her plan, such as the idea to drive late at night so Leah could sleep in the car. She simply wishes it could have worked, because right now the toddler is singing Wheels On The Bus for the seventeenth time in forty minutes and Amy feels like her head is going to explode. It's a quarter to ten, over two hours past the kid’s bedtime, and so far she refuses to fall asleep. She's wide awake in her seat, chatting and laughing and singing like there’s no tomorrow. If Amy had as much as a spare drop of energy left -even better, if there had been another parent in the car to focus on entertaining their child - the whole thing would have been adorable, but tonight it’s exhausting above anything else. 

“Maaa-maaa?” Leah shouts the word from the back seat, wildly kicking her legs against the back cushioning, and Amy has to take a deep breath before she can reply in a calm tone. 

“Yes, baby?” 

“Are we there?”

“Not yet, Lee.”

Amy can see the reflection of Leah scrunching her forehead in the baby car mirror. “Why?”

“Because we still have a little way left to drive. We’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Soon?” Leah shines up, kicking her legs again. “When is soon?”

“It will go faster if you close your eyes for a while,” She tries, using one of the oldest parenting tricks in the book. “I promise.”

“Not tired!” Her daughter responds in her cheeriest voice, and Amy gives herself a mental pat on the back for stifling a groan.

They repeat this exchange about ten times or so before Leah tires of it and returns to her singing. At that point, Amy’s counting it as a win. As much as she loves being this kid’s mom, there are indubitably times - and late-night drives with an overtired two-year-old in the back seat - when she loves it less. 

Then Leah falls asleep for the last ten miles of the drive and clutches her arms and legs around Amy like a koala to a tree when she’s lifted out of her car seat and carried to bed, and it’s easier than ever to love being a mom.

-

There’s never an uneventful day with all of the Santiagos in the same house, and it’s not any more relaxing with the extra presence of six partners, twelve grandchildren, and one dog. From the moment Amy and Leah make their way down to the kitchen for breakfast, and the toddler finds out there might be a cookie baking session with grandma happening today, the day is in full swing. Leah joins her in facetiming Jake for a few minutes to say good morning, but after that, Amy barely sees her daughter for more than a split second in several hours.

The chaos is a welcome distraction. She plays Cards Against Humanity with Luis’s teenage daughters and Julian until Simon starts begging them to help him make a YouTube video, and she teaches five-year-old Noah how to draw the perfect portrait of a horse. She reads a story to three-year-old Maisie, and she laughs heartily at the sight of Leah chasing Oscar the Bichon Frise around while yelling Kitty Cat!. For a few, wondrous hours, Amy manages to live in blissful oblivion over the two starkly negative pregnancy tests she unceremoniously shoved in the bathroom trash can before leaving yesterday, and it feels like heaven.

It feels like heaven up until she joins the crew of brothers and partners currently taking up space in the kitchen. Her brother Isaac is parked in the middle of the kitchen couch, feeding the youngest Santiago member, just-turned one-month-old Milo, with a bottle; around him Camila, Luis, Tony and his wife Clara all fawn over and admire every aspect of the newborn’s appearance. Christian, Julian and Julian’s husband Lucas are at the other end of the kitchen cuddling with and doting on the exhausted dog, and Amy silently curses her allergies for making her unable to join them. Simon just brought out his camera in the living room and she refuses to risk another unwilling YouTube appearance, so her only option is to sit down with the team of awestruck baby-admirers. 

“You forget how tiny they are,” Luis says, watching the infant with a nostalgic glance in his eyes. “I’ve had five, and you never get used to it.”

“You don’t,” Camila confirms with a small laugh, reaching out to stroke the baby’s closed fist with her thumb and index finger. “Not even I do. I’m shocked every time!” 

“I thought I remembered everything from when Maisie was born.” Isaac grins, giving the empty baby bottle to Camila and carefully lifting the infant upright against his shoulder. “But then he comes out, and I think he must be several pounds lighter because surely Maisie was never this tiny, but he was bigger!” He shakes his head. “It’s insane.”

“He’s so cute,” Tony chimes in. “Do you get to sleep anything? I’m nervous about that.” His left hand is resting next to Clara’s on top of her visible baby bump. Amy lets out an audible snort upon hearing about her brother’s main cause for worry, but Isaac just grins.

“You get used to it. It’ll probably be worse for Clara anyway.”

“Great.” Clara grimaces, turning to Amy. “I can’t even sleep now! I either have a baby sleeping on top of my bladder or kicking me in the ribs for the whole night.”

“I remember.” She smiles, thinking back to the few times late in her pregnancy she’d made Jake sleep on the couch only because she couldn’t stand listening to his snoring on top of it all. “It sucks, and then everyone keeps telling you to sleep while you still can and you’re trying not to punch them.”

“Exactly!” Her sister-in-law laughs, tucking a strand of red-blonde hair behind her ear. “At least everyone says it’s worth it.”

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have done it so many times,” says Camila, and Clara looks relieved. “Oh, Amy, you need to hold Milo for a little while! He’s been in everyone’s arms except for yours today. Isaac, send him to Amy.”

“Oh.” She squirms in her seat, a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. “It’s okay. I was just going to look for Leah anyway -”

“Leah’s upstairs doing puzzles with Sarah and Samuel,” Isaac explains, referring to David’s two-year-old twins. “She’s fine. You can hold him, Ames.”

“I think I’m good… okay, no choice, I see.” Her younger brother’s already holding out the infant to her, and before she can adjust to the thought, there’s a tiny, yawning baby in her arms.

It’s achingly familiar, yet it feels like it’s been forever. 

At first, it’s like every muscle fiber in her body tenses with the sudden awareness that there's a fragile, helpless human in her arms and the weight of terrifying responsibility resting with her for a moment. It's been two years since Amy last held a newborn, and she certainly forgot how breakable they feel when they haven't learned to support their own head. Then Milo lets out a content sigh, his mouth twitching like he's smiling at her, and although she knows he's too small and it's likely just gas, the brief facial expression makes her feel chosen.

She's missed this, she realizes. Noting the classic Santiago baby appearance traits, the head of dark hair and the little button nose, she thinks of countless hours spent holding her own clingy newborn two years ago, and bites her lip when she remembers that she still has no idea when she’ll get to do it again. Milo’s adorable, and Amy's secretly wishing he could stay in her arms forever or she could steal him and take him home with her, but he's also a painful reminder of what she wants most and doesn't have yet.

“He likes you,” Isaac comments, nodding towards the infant. “You and Jake haven’t thought of having another one?”

She freezes at the sound of his question, instantly clueless about what constitutes a good reply. She could tell him the truth, of course, and probably receive a flood of well-meaning advice about the best ways to conceive, but doing so would lead to expectations. Santiagos aren’t known for struggling to have kids, and she’s terrified of handling a hoard of family members subtly trying to figure out whether or not she's pregnant every time they see her. It's enough pressure coming from herself. She doesn't need people adding to it - least of all her family. 

“Oh,” she says instead, avoiding eye contact by playing with one of Milo’s fists. “Well, we’re not sure yet.”

“Two years is the best age span between siblings,” Luis chimes in. “We always tried to aim for two years and our kids are super close.”

“Yes, yes, two years is perfect,” Camila agrees, nodding eagerly. “The adjustment is much more difficult when they’ve turned three, or four, and suddenly they’re not the youngest anymore… Sometimes I think Tony never got over his grudges against Simon!” 

“I’m telling you, mom, that’s not it, we have a grudge because four years ago he made me do that awful cinnamon challenge that almost gave me an asthma attack and filmed it -”

“Two years is great,” Christian interrupts his younger brother’s story without remorse. “We went for two years between Isabel and Noah and it was perfect. You do want to have more than one kid, right?”

Amy has never wished harder for a baby in her arms to start crying. 

She needs to get away, out of the situation where she has to hear and answer these sudden intrusive questions, but Milo shows no signs of waking. She’s stuck with a panicky, claustrophobic sensation in her chest and a forced smile on her lips. 

“We do,” she replies to Christian’s question, weighing every word carefully. “We’re just not sure when.”

“No point in waiting,” says Isaac, looking at the baby in Amy’s arms. “I wish we’d had Milo earlier!”

There must be a lack of air in the room, or her allergy medicines have stopped working and are making her react to the dog, because she can’t shake the feeling she’s suffocating. She's feeling trapped even in the spacious kitchen, and although she knows everyone has their eyes fixed on Milo, she can't shake the feeling it's her they're staring at. 

She wonders if they're seeing right through her; if they somehow know about negative pregnancy tests of yesterday, or if they can sense her desperation and frustration in the fake smile plastered on her face.

“I suppose you never know,” she answers somehow, heart pounding too quickly. “I, uh… have to go to the bathroom. Do you want to hold him for a little while, Clara?”

Amy senses eyes on her as she sneaks out the kitchen, hurries through the hallway and grabs her coat before heading out and sitting down on the porch, but she can't bring herself to care. She has to fill her lungs with fresh air and get away from well-meaning but prying questions, or she’s going to have a full-on breakdown. 

There’s a layer of snow on the ground, too thin for any children or adults to be playing in but enough to give a sense of hope for a white Christmas. She scrapes her fingers through the minuscule ice crystals gathered on the wooden decking, drawing an uneven heart with her index finger and following it with another. 

You do want to have more than one kid, right?

She draws a third, smaller heart below the two bigger ones.

You and Jake haven’t thought of having another one anytime soon? 

She draws a fourth tiny heart next to the third one.

No point in waiting.

She hides her fist in the sleeve of her winter coat, rubbing it over her drawings and turning them into nothingness. She curses the fact that Jake’s working, that he and Rosa are following up some highly important leads today and their mission would likely be sabotaged if she called and interrupted her husband now, and she curses the fact that Leah’s having the time of her life playing with her cousins and would probably scream in protest if Amy tried to steal her for cuddles. 

It’s not too cold outside with her warm coat keeping her comfortable, but she’s still shivering, so she wraps her arms around herself and tries to blink away the tears taking form in her eyes.

She’s aware she’s being ridiculous. Having a baby takes more than a couple months of trying in many, many cases - the majority of them, even. She’s far from unique, yet a sneaking suspicion and vexing anxiety are lingering with her. 

No point in waiting.

She puts one hand on her chest and one hand over her stomach, trying to focus on the fresh air flowing in through her nose and out through her mouth, filling and leaving her for each inhale and exhale.

“Just relax,” she whispers to herself, pretending it's Jake's voice saying the words, his unwavering belief that it will all be fine she's listening to. 

“Are you sure you’re still my sister? Have you had some kind of personality change?” 

“Huh?” Amy almost jumps at the sound of Julian’s voice, bringing her out of her focused breathing and forcing her to look up.

“You’re willingly outside in the cold weather,” he declares, slumping down next to her. “Even with a coat on, that's impressive for you.” She notes that he's only wearing a hoodie himself and seems unbothered by the temperature.

“I needed fresh air.”

“Because of Oscar? I swear his breed is supposed to be allergy-friendly, we researched that stuff in depth. Maybe your allergies are just undefeatable?”

“No, it’s fine as long as I don't pet him.” Amy places a hand on her brother's shoulder, squeezing it. “Oscar’s great. Leah's in love with him.”

“Isn't he amazing?” Julian's grin is comically wide, his eyes sparkling with undiluted pride. “He can sit, and roll, and catch, and play dead if he gets enough candy! Parenthood is incredible. I’m so glad our kids get along.” He doesn't entirely sound like he’s joking, and Amy can't help but laugh at his excitement. “So if it wasn't Oscar, why did you leave?”

“Were you listening to the conversation?”

“Eh, bits and pieces. How so?”

She sighs. “They - mom, and Isaac and Christian, mostly - interrogated me about whether we’re planning to have another baby anytime soon.”

“And you’re not?”

“We are! We’re actively trying for it.”

“Oh! Cool,” Julian nods, scratching the stubble on his chin. “I can get behind that. I wouldn't have anything against reproducing with those Peralta genes either if I could.” Amy elbows her brother in the side at that, probably way harder than necessary, and it makes him gasp in offense. “Hey! It’s just objective facts that he's attractive!”

“I’m telling Lucas you said that.”

“Lucas agrees. Either way - if you actually are trying, what's with the tears and the sudden storming out?”

“I didn't storm out,” she protests, and he gives her a meaning look of judgment as if to say yes, you did. “And it's nothing.”

Julian snorts. “Sure it is.”

“It's not a big deal.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“It's just making me a little stressed is all.” 

“A little.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Amy groans, placing her head in both hands and quickly running her fingers through her hair. There's a knot in the back of it, and she busies herself trying to pull it apart as she speaks. “We are trying. It's just not going very well yet, I guess. It’s making me nervous, and it's not something I want to tell everyone in our family about, because, well… we’re not exactly known for struggling with that.”

Julian is silent, and there’s a moment where Amy wonders if she’s managed the impossible. For all their countless petty fights and differences, Julian has always had a reply to offer her. Sometimes he’s supportive, sometimes questioning, and sometimes he’s all over judging her decisions, but he never ignores her worries when she chooses to confide in him. It throws her off to see him take so long to answer her now, and she watches him twist the white gold wedding ring on his finger absentmindedly while he grimaces.

“No,” he says right as she starts to consider tapping him on the shoulder to make sure he’s conscious. “I guess we’re not known for struggling with anything. Has this… been a problem for a long time?”

“A couple of months.”

“...Is that a long time? I’m not great with this heterosexual business. I’m much better with waiting times for adopting a dog.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “It’s not that long. But it’s longer when you don’t have a lot of time to begin with.” Julian looks about as perplexed as if she’d been trying to explain the intricate details of quantum physics to him, and she clarifies. “Fertility decreases as you age.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“I’m thirty-nine. Maybe I shouldn't panic yet, but in a year, or two…” Amy shakes her head. “It gets really low. Higher chances of miscarrying. Chromosome variations. Premature birth. You name it. Basically, the sooner I get pregnant now, the better and safer it is for everyone.”

“I see.”

“So there's some time pressure,” she explains further, connecting her hands inside the coat sleeves to eliminate the cold that's started to seep in. “And it’s making me terrified something's wrong with me already. That it's not going to work. That we’ll never be able to have a second kid. I know that's maybe not the end of the world, but… I really, really want it, and I’d be heartbroken if it didn’t happen.”

A pair of stubborn, humiliating teardrops make their way down her cheeks at the thought, and she untangles her hands to quickly wipe them away. 

“I’m sure it'll work out, Ames.” Julian's smile is partly sympathetic and partly insecure when he speaks, like this subject is miles out of his comfort zone but he's trying his best anyway. “As you said, two months is nothing, right? Mom was like, 42 when she had Simon. Surely if anyone's got the genes for this, it’s our family.”

“Yeah. It's never a guarantee, though, and I can’t handle their questions. Two years is the best time between siblings,” she imitates in an exaggerated high-pitched tone, and Julian laughs heartily. “As if I wasn’t already pressuring myself about the same thing. But I can't tell them that, because then they’d start asking.”

“Mm, our family does lack all understanding of what privacy is sometimes.” Julian grins. “There are several options even for gay men! Surrogates! Adoption! I read this article in a magazine where a pair co-parented with lesbians!” His shrill imitation tone is awful and hilarious at the same time, making Amy snicker. “I think she was mad at me for weeks after I told her we were happy with a dog. She means well, but it just becomes a lot.”

“Doesn’t get easier when it’s something you already want, either.” 

“You’ll be fine.”

“Maybe. I hope so.”

“If not, I’m pro-dogs. They’re pretty much like children, except you don’t have to create a college fund for them. A win-win situation if it weren’t for the fact that owning a dog could probably kill you. But other than that!” Julian stretches his arms over his head, looking mighty proud of himself. “Solid.”

“I’m already busy trying to talk Jake out of buying a cat,” says Amy, massaging her temples at the thought. “But he’s managed to get Leah obsessed with them, so I think I’m losing.”

“That’s why she’s calling Oscar a cat! Wow. Jake’s a genius.”

“Well, that and she’s two. And please don’t ever tell him that, because his ego would literally explode.”

Amy can feel her face going numb from the cold outside, a sudden gust of wind coming at them and making her eyes tear for a new reason. The fact that she’s lost track of time hits her, awakening an uneasiness and a sudden need to get inside and check up on how her daughter’s doing, so she gives Julian a quick, rare hug, and is surprised when he squeezes her back for a long time.

“Thanks for coming out,” she mumbles, and he nods.

“Of course. I just don’t like seeing you cry.”

“Aww, that’s kind of sweet.”

“You look so weird when you do,” he says with a smirk, and she rolls her eyes at the mock insult. “No one should have to see that.”

“Fuck off, Jules.”

“Yep. Now let’s go make sure our kids are still alive and haven’t eaten any couches. Is that a thing with human children too?”

~

january

It’s a good Christmas.

It’s a Christmas where Amy can allow herself some time to relax and unwind, put her worries aside and focus on her family during the ten days both her and Jake manage to garner off work. It’s a long-awaited and dearly welcomed break from early daycare drop-offs, ten-minute-dinners, and infinite planning to make sure nothing is forgotten. 

Instead there is time for slow wakeups, snuggling with Leah when she crawls into their bed in the early hours of the morning and giving in to her request of watching iPad in their bed only so they can keep their eyes closed for a little while longer. There's time for late-night conversations over a glass of wine that don't feel rushed because at least they don't have somewhere to be tomorrow, and there's time to properly see friends outside of work for the first time in what feels like forever. They go to dinner at Terry’s house, watch Rosa enjoy the indoor trampoline park even more than Leah does, and they gratefully accept Charles’ offer to babysit their daughter for a night. Amy figures the man has a specific motive in mind, but then Jake suggests they spend the night at a hotel and Leah gets ecstatic at the mention of watching Disney movies with her uncle Charles and Nikolaj, so she ends up saying yes. She’s only human, after all, and she’s not going to neglect the rare and precious chance of a sleep-in.

(The date also times mysteriously well with when she should be ovulating.)

(She does not want to ask.)

Even the yearly Christmas dinner with the Santiagos ends up being survivable. Although there are kids crying, odd snarky comments between Tony and Simon, and Leah outright refuses to wear anything but her sequined dinosaur shirt and glittery tights to the event, things proceed smoothly and Amy’s stress levels remain on the healthier part of the scale. She watches Jake hold and make funny faces at Milo and can feel her mom giving them meaning looks from across the room, but she breathes through it and silently thanks the Universe when Leah chooses that exact moment to climb onto Amy’s lap and ask if they can read one of her new books. Sure, part of her wishes she could be gifting her husband a crafted announcement with a baby onesie and a positive pregnancy test much like the ones she’s pinned on Pinterest, but the tender way he hugs her thank you after he opens his gift and sees the photo book filled with pictures with him and Leah, is more than enough to ease her sorrow. He gifts her a gold necklace with the letters J and L in separate miniature hearts, and when he tells her it’s so she can always be keeping them next to her own heart, she tears up and kisses him so long and ardently that he looks a little dazed, blinking with surprise when they part.

It’s a good New Year’s Eve, too. They spend the first part of the evening at the Holt-Cozner New Year’s Party, listening to their daughter proudly tell every guest she’s going to stay up until midnight, and then they try not to laugh when she passes out the moment she’s in her car seat at half-past nine. Jake and Amy end their year in pajamas on the couch, toasting in champagne just for the sake of it and going right to bed afterward.

Next year we’ll have another baby, she thinks to herself before falling asleep about fifteen minutes into the new year, a new sense of shimmering optimism lingering with her. It has to have worked by then.

January is hell. Everyone knows it, specifically, everyone who’s had children at daycare, because January means no one is healthy and neither Jake nor Amy manage a full week at work without taking time off to care for a sick child or themselves. Amy prays they’ll make it through without any cases of stomach flu, but such seems to have been too much to ask, because she’s woken up by devastating crying from Leah’s room on the one night Jake’s doing a night shift and she knows before the two-year-old’s even started retching. 

She doesn’t get any sleep that night.

She doesn’t get any sleep the next night either, because when Leah stops throwing up and Amy feels like she can breathe again when the child keeps some applesauce down and asks if she can watch Doc McStuffins, it only takes three hours before Jake starts complaining about feeling sick. 

January must surely be some twisted sort of a joke, she thinks, and disinfects her hands an extra time before she goes to remind her very miserable husband that he’s not actually dying. 

It’s only natural, amid the virus-filled havoc, that it takes her a few days to realize she hasn’t gotten her period.  

Come to think of it, she is feeling a bit nauseous. The excessive fatigue and emotional imbalance she knows were early symptoms in her first pregnancy is harder to distinguish from the exhaustion after two intense days of caring for poorly family members, but she’s a mom and a Santiago and she categorically never gets sick. 

She gives the nausea a day, waiting for it to break out into the same flu Jake and Leah are already victims of, but it doesn’t. It stays the same.

Amy’s never been so excited about nausea in her life.

She waits until Leah’s gone to bed, falling asleep in Amy’s arms on the couch. The two-year-old’s still not quite her energetic, bubbly self and has been stuck to her parents like a needy band-aid for most of the day, and it could have been tiring if it hadn’t also meant lots of cuddles. Right now, though, Amy's arms and back are happy to get a break from carrying the kid around while she lays down next to Jake instead, spooning him and receiving a grateful smile when she starts playing with his hair.

“How are you feeling, babe?”

“Dying. I think I might be dead already,” he groans before turning his head and looking her in the eyes with feigned seriousness. “Please say something nice at my funeral and promise me you'll take care of Charles when I'm gone.”

“You're not dying, Jake.”

“How d’you know?”

“Because you haven't thrown up since last night and you only have a slight fever,” she reminds him, feeling his lukewarm forehead. “You're fine.”

“I am definitely much better with a hot girl draped on top of me,” he says with a smug expression, his hand gently stroking under her old NYPD shirt up her back. She rolls her eyes, because looks haven't exactly been the top priority for the last three days and she's not sure when she last washed her hair, yet Jake never stops making an effort to charm her. “How are you feeling, Ames?”

“Actually, I've been kind of nauseous all day. But I'm not sure it's stomach flu.”

“Huh? What else would it be?”

“I'm thinking,” she presses her index finger to his chest, “maybe I should take a pregnancy test.”

“Oh.” He squints at her. “Why?”

Amy gives him an exasperated look.

“Okay, yeah. But you’ve also spent the last three days taking care of your sick family. Leah was throwing up on us. Are you sure you're not just ill?”

“I have a good feeling,” she insists, because she does - there's a renewed sense of hope and blind faith that perhaps this could be it, resting with her. “And I never get sick.”

“Once again, your daughter was vomiting on you and I'm still convinced I might be dying. This is a brutal virus, Ames.”

“Clearly.” She runs her fingers through his messier-than-usual curls again, and his mouth shapes into a content smile despite his still worried eyes. “I’m still going to take that test, though. In case.”

“In case,” he repeats slowly. “Well, it’s your body.”

“Exactly.” She kisses his forehead. “You get it. I’ll be right back.”

Amy takes these tests with ease now. She’s been doing them two, three times extra following every first negative in a desperate hope for the result to change. False negatives are common, test results are safer the longer after a missed period they’re taken, and there’s no reason not to test an extra time. Long story short, she's becoming a pro at taking pregnancy tests, but so far the single lines and minus signs are staying the same.

She says a silent prayer this one will be an exception. 

Plastic cap off, pee for five seconds, plastic cap back on, lay the test flat and wait while trying not to freak out. She manages all steps but the final. 

She carries the little plastic stick out to the living room coffee table gently as if it had been made of glass.

“Three minutes,” she informs Jake, and he nods while she sets a timer on her phone. In three minutes, they'll know whether her good feeling is right or dead wrong, and the nausea increases but this time Amy thinks it's nerves.

She doesn't want to stare, but she does anyway, waiting for a second line to appear no matter how faint. Jake sits up next to her, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, and she manages a weak smile without lifting her eyes from the test.

The timer goes off without a second line appearing. 

Amy lifts the test to inspect it closer, but there's not even a hint of anything. She gives it to Jake for a second opinion, and he inspects it just as closely before shaking his head and mumbling a quiet sorry, babe. 

She's not pregnant this month either.

“It’s okay, Ames. Three months is nothing.”

She doesn’t realize there are tears in her eyes until they’re trailing down her cheeks and Jake’s hand is there, wiping them away. She presses on his wrist to move it, make him stop because she’s not okay and she doesn’t want him pressuring her to feel anything but the searing disappointment coursing through her veins.

“It’s not,” she says, shaking her head. “I just feel so stupid. I thought I was feeling something.”

“You’re not stupid,” he tells her, and the tenderness in his voice erases her annoyance. “You want this really bad. I do, too, but… well, it’s not my body.”

“Not your body being a massive failure.”

“Hey!” Jake holds up one hand like he’s making a stop motion. “No one talks that way about my wife!”

“Ha-ha.”

“I’m serious! You don’t get to say those things, okay? You know it’s not true.” She hums a doubting sound, and he sighs, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Ames, we’ll just try again. We already did a great job once, and there are moments I wish we hadn’t, because if we didn’t have a toddler in daycare I would be so much healthier… okay, I still don’t regret it,” he adds. “Except maybe the daycare part, because I swear I’m sick all the time.”

“You love our daycare! Without it, you’d never get to eat that Scientology-guy’s chocolate chip cookies at every parent meeting.”

“Fair point. Craig, right? Weirdly good baker. Fine - I guess I don’t regret the daycare either. But you’re about to.”

This time, she’s the one squinting at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Still feeling nauseous?”

“Kind of, why are you… oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Your immune system isn’t undefeatable!” 

“It’s still better than yours,” she counters, and Jake just grins.

“But not undefeatable.”

She gives him a slow nod, trying to hide the despondency on her face as she takes the negative test from his hands.

“I’m just going to throw this away.”

Amy is certain of it when she wakes up three hours later, almost throwing herself out of bed to make it to the bathroom in time - January is officially and unquestionably hell. 

~

[lovetnaomi]

Secrets of the Dusk Chapter 23

Chapter 23

               The cool air flowed in through the window, softly playing with his hair, an attempt to disarm him for the cold winter ahead. Todoroki sighed, shifting his weight on his feet as he stared out towards the grave where Jericho was buried. He had been careful not to bury anyone so far, he knew he didn’t have a willing church grim-that-and well, most of the people he killed so far didn’t deserve to have a happy ending, as one of a lighter term of life may have hoped for. Those he had killed were all of supernatural-kind, they would have enough psychic-energy to linger as ghosts, he had made sure to dispose of any wandering spirits properly so he wouldn’t have to deal with the after-effects later. Besides, they didn’t deserve the rights of a church grim who had the ability to come and go to the afterlife and their modern world as they pleased, conscious of what was happening. Sure, it wasn’t without its own rules, but most wouldn’t forsake such a chance. Others would regret it. And others would use it to deal with their unfinished businesses. He wished he knew more about Jericho before they had buried him. He glanced towards Katsuki paging through some of the books he had brought home recently, his unusual behavior of quiet to accommodate their current situation. The house had an unusual mellow to it and the coffee mug he held in his hand had long gone cold. 

Another page turned. Another ripple ran across the cup. And the moonlight continued to shine in their yard, completely unaffected by the happenings of the night. To some, this was just another night. Another tranquil night, going on living their lives. And while not tranquil, that was what he intended to do.

               He reached to close the curtains.

               “Leave it.”

               “Are you sure?”

               “As long as the moonlight stays over there.”

               Todoroki nodded, unsure how long that would remain, but it couldn’t hurt to let Katsuki see outside with the moonlight illuminating the world every so often, it was likely better than most dreary nights covered in the grayscale colors. Todoroki glanced at his glowing red eyes wondering how much that allowed him to see throughout the night, maybe he was seeing the world different from how Todoroki was picturing he saw it. A soft sigh of cold air ran down towards his mug, maybe it wasn’t the cold winter air that had turned the beverage cold, but himself. Uraraka’s feet had long since stopped padding around the room, she was clearly in bed but he could hear from the way she was tossing and turning and occasionally giving up to rustle through paperwork, that she was still wide awake. Burying another was no easy task. He glared into his reflection knowing that he had failed in his task to protect her. An embarrassment as the protector of this household that would have to be paid for in kind.

               “Take her somewhere.”

               Todoroki glanced at Katsuki paging through the books, unsure of how to answer.

               “You told her we’d take care of her. It is not like she was born into this world. Give her a night out. Something to make it easier.”

               “We have another problem to deal with.”

               “Yeah, a problem that comes and goes, clearly.” Katsuki pointed at himself. It made sense, if Katsuki had restrictions it was very likely that the person who had turned Katsuki into what he was also had restrictions, although not the same ones. It seemed that they were rather active, but given by the evidence they hadn’t been attacked in a while after the first entourage of attacks it was unlikely that they were going to attack any time soon.

               “And if they’re just hoping we’ll let our guard down?”

               “Defend each other. We’re going to win. We have to.”

               Todoroki paused continuing to stare out the window. Maybe he should do something with the grave, ask one of the forest fairies for a favor or the witches that still resided in the forest. Maybe he could even cover it himself. He was sure that it would be a burden each time she looked at it. A burden that she shouldn’t have had to endure. Uraraka said that she wanted to create a future for herself, it was the reason she was going to college. But she had never said that she was willing to tear others down to create it. And it was clear that those were not her intentions. It was moments like these, moments like when she was deep asleep in her bed when he was standing out in the yard soaked in the blood of anyone who dared enough to go passe the border staring at the moon wondering what he did to deserve this life, that he wondered, wondered what her life was like before she had met them. If she would’ve been better off not meeting them if she would regret knowing them by the time she graduated. And if she would ever find out that he was slaughtering people while she slept. The idea of her stepping out that door to find the bodies that piled up throughout the night, him standing in the center covered in their blood made bile rise in his throat. It felt as though his throat boiled when he wondered what would become of all of them. They knew the only way out for “immortal” supernaturals was murder. She knew that. But he didn’t want her to see the ending. There was no reason she would have to see the ending.

               “No, I’m not taking her out,”

               “She needs a day out, we’re not-“

               “I’ll call Tsuyu. She needs a normal day out, we’re not helping.” Todoroki’s eyes slid towards the phone hoping he could remember what her number was. Wondering if Tsuyu had ever left her number around for them in the first place. Todoroki swallowed, glancing towards Katsuki as he lowered himself to the table, “One more thing….when they come home, I’ll have the Witch of the Forrest waiting for them and they’ll erase their memories of this place.”

               Katsuki’s eyes trailed leaving their after image as they moved towards him, glancing up from his book for the first time since they had been in this room several hours ago, “You can’t-“

               “It’s the same concept as the barrier that protects the forest so normal humans can’t run in.”

               “That’s her decision.”

               “Are you hoping that she’ll actually be able to fix your curse? We’re being selfish. This is going to get her killed.”

               Katsuki was quiet, closing his book as he stared towards the moonlight glowing in the kitchen floor, steps away from him, knowing that no matter how much he should ask Todoroki to close the window he wanted to let the light in, let it seep in through the curtains. Moonlight wasn’t warm, but there was something mellow about it, “So what you’re just going to throw her out?”

               “No, I’ll find a place and rent it out than have someone pose as a person renting for cheap-“

               “Shady.”

               “College offer?”

               “Unless you can get someone officially through the college, even shadier. Especially if they’re only offering it to one student. Uraraka probably doesn’t know that many other people considering she was sleeping on the streets, and Tsuyu probably lives close by with her parents’ recent appearance a couple of weeks ago.”

               Todoroki nodded. Neither option would work without some investment, but this was something worth investing for.  Uraraka was something that he would gamble his whole life on if he had to. He didn’t want her to feel indebted to him, but he didn’t want to put her in danger. He was a being of another world in her reality, he was a being of literal magic and fairytales. What was the point of all the magic and power that he controlled if he couldn’t at least give her a roof over her head and a place to feel safe? An absolute waste of power.  That was the bare minimum, the ability to protect those who had come to him for protection without them offering and giving them the ability to feel safe. It was his duty as the one with the power. It was his duty to protect them.

               Another cold breath escaped, drawing his eyes towards the forest where a set of their own blinked. “Leave” He mouthed. Enough blood had been shed here tonight. He wasn’t in the mood for another hunt of prey. That prey would suffer if they came any closer.

               Katsuki sighed, glaring towards the creature that curiously blinked in the woods, anything that was smart could smell the amount of blood the land had been soaked in, it would stay far away. But this creature seemed to be nothing of the sort, “What is it?”

               “I can’t tell from here.”

               “I’m not eating that. It smells like your other house, something recognizable inhuman about it.”

               “Several humans live there.”

               “Who also happen to be half-demon.”

               He had a point, but there was something about Fuyumi and Natsuo that seemed more human then he and his eldest brother did. And it wasn’t the crazed eyes that his eldest brother possessed, although that likely was both of his heritages struggling as hard as they could against the reality he was presented with.

               “But you’re not denying it smells like your old household.”

               Todoroki shuffled, none of the creatures around here recently were dumb enough to go near such a blood wrenched place, “It does. It smells like Fuyumi.”  He stood up, heading towards the front door and opening it, the creature already scrambling up to him. It was an unusual creature, especially for their world. It could almost be considered small and cute, by a human’s standard. Likely that was its lure to collect prey. It likely wasn’t very strong but had plenty of tricks up its sleeves. The kind that clearly got underestimated but shouldn’t have been. Some creatures that were so cute that it would cause even the toughest demons to let their guards down, creatures that should never be underestimated. It almost reminded him of Uraraka, he got himself. A smile almost escaping his lips as he considered how powerful he knew she would become. He shook his head, there was no way that this creature in front of him would be able to compare to her in any way. But there was a reason they stayed around Fuyumi, while Fuyumi may have seemed to side mostly with the humans, she spent most of her life residing in the demon world. This creature was clearly one of her messengers.

               Its voice was soft and squeaky, the kind someone would expect from something so small, a disarming voice, “Princess Fuyumi’s next birthday is coming up, we would like to request a gathering of sorts to take place.”

               “Shouldn’t that be planned by her?”

               “We are making a surprise, please do show up. Princess Fuyumi also asked that I told you that she’s made accommodations so all of your guests will be able to attend, but did not elaborate on it.” The creature squeaked, handing him an invitation and a quick nod before scampering off into the woods.

               “Guess it knew it wouldn’t get killed immediately since it smells like your sister.” Katsuki leaned on the railing near the door as Todoroki glanced up towards the floor that wasn’t there before. The house was moving around of its own will again, there were days where he wondered if it would swallow them alive. If it was a curse or a demon itself.  Or maybe something else entirely. Either way, so far it had been kind to them.

               “I wonder what it meant by accommodations.” He glanced towards Katsuki, it was clear that she meant that she would make arrangements so that Katsuki could attend a night out that wasn’t dedicated solely to the new moon, but it wasn’t something he wanted to risk without further details.

               “Don’t think about it, I need to guard the house.”

               “The house guards itself well enough.”

               “Sure, it just let like four guys in here that wish us ill will and would’ve burned it down had they a chance.”

               “It used to eat people.”

               Katsuki blinked, glancing back at him, likely the thoughts of a human running through his head as he processed while they were still living there, “Are you crazy then why are we still living here?”

               “It’s how I knew you meant no harm when I found you in the house one day.” Todoroki paused glancing towards the sky, remembering one of the first times he felt panic in the domain he had created. And yet, the reason for his panic and unreason-ability that day would become one of his closest friends.

               “I’m still not going.”

               “Fuyumi has a lot of connections herself within the magical and demon realms, she’s probably the person to ask if someone wants to get anywhere with information.”

               “That goody-two-shoes? Come on, even I know looking at her she’s not going to have the kind of information you would expect a demon to have, even if she’s only half, you can tell-“

               “You’ve underestimated her already.” Todoroki paused, remembering the creature that was at his door only moments ago, from the looks of it the creature-itself currently seemed just as unreasonable as the malicious aura it was capable of asserting. If it wasn’t it wouldn’t have managed to live long enough to deliver such a message. And it wouldn’t have left a pile of scraps that it had munched on within the woods near the edge of his territory.  He glanced towards the door, “And although I hate to admit it, she’s dating one of the most powerful tengu-clan members in the area.”

               Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes, “And what’s wrong with the tengu? It’s not like the two of us can’t beat the crap out of their whole clan single-handedly.”

               “We could. But we won’t.” Todoroki sighed, glancing towards Uraraka’s room wondering if she was still awake if she would like to prepare to go to such a place. Or if she would even want to get out of bed tomorrow. Maybe she was asleep already. He glanced back towards Katsuki, maybe he should enlighten him on why not to fight the tengu. “We don’t want to fight them. There are several reasons, the first is my family has a pact with them, they don’t hunt humans, they act like a mafia, but the most important reasoning is my sister is dating the heir.” Todoroki ran a hand through his hair, it was something most people would whistle at or be interested in on how sweet and soft-spoken Fuyumi had managed to snag the wild playboy heir. But last time he had seen Hawks, it seemed that Hawks was absolutely smitten with her. And he didn’t think he would randomly betray Fuyumi, likely at this point if they broke it off it would be a mutual understanding. He hoped. For Hawks' sake.

               “I’m going to bed. Make sure you address the concerns about me coming there with Fuyumi later.”

               “I will. She won’t purposely kill a guest.”

               Katsuki rolled his eyes, “Purposely isn’t the only way someone can die. And I won’t be going out in such a flimsy way, not when I’m so close to answers.”

               Todoroki shrugged, wondering if Katsuki’s species truly did sleep. After Katsuki padded off into a random direction in the house, likely just giving him the courtesy to go to bed himself and explore the house’s new arrangements on his own instead.  Todoroki turned, heading down the hall. Uraraka’s footsteps had long since stopped wandering around her room, he could at least check on her.

               “Uraraka?” He knocked on the door, receiving no response he knocked again, his knuckles sliding down the back of the door. Maybe she didn’t want to see him. Maybe she was sick of the supernatural world and the bloodshed and the fear that ran throughout it. It was no fairytale after all. She had nowhere else to go. Maybe she wanted to run from them and had been frantically packing to free herself from the perils they had gotten her into. None of these were her problems, after all, just problems her roommates had caused her, frankly if there was a roommate rating system he was sure he wouldn’t be the worst roommate, but pretty far down on the scale.  Dragging your roommate into murderous situations didn’t help in the opinion factor. Todoroki shook his head, Uraraka wasn’t like that, she was kind. And she was desperately working towards her goals. If he knew her she was likely engrossed in a book that was either teaching her about her own blossoming magic and who she was or still struggling to research how to help Katsuki. “Uraraka?” He knocked again, the sound of her breathing was soft, almost hollow, his brain stuttered reeling throughout the day. He hadn’t realized it earlier, but the feeling that slipped down his back earlier, tickling the nape of his neck, it was magic. Magic had ran throughout the house, not only once she separated the three of them from fighting for their lives, but even further. How could he not realize it sooner? Uraraka was the reason they were still alive? Between possessing Jericho from that distance, he could still feel the magic coming and going drifting around their feet. She was still running some form of magic. Todoroki’s eyes lingered towards the mirror, the bruises on his face had disappeared faster than normal. He had thought it was his demon side reacting as quickly as it could to save their lives. But it was her. She was trying to save them. And he hadn’t seen her all night in the name of giving her space, “Uraraka, I’m coming in!”

               Todoroki swung the door open, the tension building up in his shoulders releasing as he spotted Uraraka; head on placed on the desk, covered in paperwork, books messy and stacked in the corner, she was asleep. Todoroki smiled, taking a spare bracelet the Witch of the Forest had left him and slipping it around her wrist. The bracelets had been made by the Witch of the Forest when she thought Uraraka was a blossoming witch, one she wanted to take into her coven and nurture herself. There was no way she would imprison Uraraka with such intentions, especially when she was such a wild soul that was desperate to be free herself.

               Uraraka’s eyes slid open, haze covering them, “Todoroki? Did you need something?”

               “Nothing, have you been here all night?”

               “I’m trying to find answers.” Her words were jumbled as she mumbled, but it was clear what her intentions were. They all needed answers of their own. They weren’t out to save or destroy the world, but to find out the answers to what was happening in their own lives. The papers discussed the circumstances of vampires, similar creatures, and events of similar happenings. It was perplexing where she was able to obtain such documents from, but those would be questions for tomorrow as he watched Uraraka slip in and out of sleep. Maybe he hadn’t trapped her here after all but she chose to stay. No one who felt trapped would be falling asleep in front of the person who they felt was trapping them. She clearly felt safe here.

               Todoroki reached, gently lifting her up, doing his best to move delicately in a similar way to someone hunting their prey, but the only intention to move Uraraka without waking her. He slipped her into bed, covering her with her blankets. Uraraka rustled turning to her side, he let out a breath pacing towards the door, “Goodnight, Uraraka.”

               Todoroki paused, glancing down towards the paperwork, knowing he would have to pull more of the weight in the investigation. Maybe part of him wondered if they could return Katsuki back to being human, would Katsuki leave him? Would they be able to turn him into a human too? Would whatever the sacrifice require be worth it? What would be the value of it all? But mostly would he wind up alone in the end? Todoroki’s hand quivered as he picked up an article, he knew he shouldn’t look at it. An article that shouldn’t be removed from the pile, an article of a man he knew he shouldn’t meet alone. But he would. He would go for answers, and that man would pay for making his territory into a hunting ground of those who he now protected. The article without realizing it detailed the hunting ground and current pattern of the person who was suspected in several murder cases. The person who had murdered Katsuki.  And he was going to hunt. Todoroki had found that he was doing his best to limit how much blood was spilled each night as not to scare his guests off, but he had a thirst for vengeance to quench. And the clock had just hit midnight.

[kaywritesthings]

Eddie: Eddie was so releived it was all over. That clown and the clowns creative tricks. He heard the sirens all over and knew that something big happened. He thought it might be IT or news of his house, but right now it was Harold's dad murdered. Eddie turned off the news and lean back on his bed. "My mom is not aware you are here." He told Richie. "So, so keep your voice down. " He said. "I will get us snacks, but you have to keep your voice down. Do you think you can manage being quiet?" He stood up and went to the door. He propped his hand on his hip and looked back at him. He had a serious face, that turned into a half smile. the adreneline was still all too high from the killing of the clown. "Well, can you shut your pie hole while I go get us pie?"

Richie: Richie knew on some level, at some adult level of thinking that he should go home and maybe hug his mom or something stupid like that. That was what kids were supposed to do when they just did something dangerous and stupid (and awesome, it was awesome too). He still had adrenaline pumping through him and he knew just about everyone else had gone home and gotten all right with their parents, but Richie couldn't stomach it. He just couldn't. Sticking with Eddie was just...easier. He flopped down on Eddie's bed with a loud sigh, flinging his limbs out as far as he could and practically laying on top of him. "You're just jealous cause your mom wants me so bad," he said. "Hey Mrs. K-" he started to yell, letting his voice get just a little louder before chuckling, the smile draining from his face a little. "You mom can suck my dick," Richie said suddenly his voice actually low this time. "Do you know how many times I called you and she hung up on me?" He pursed his lips. "We did super fucked up shit today. It was like becoming men. We're men now and we didn't have to say any Jewy shit to do it like Stan did. Yeah, we deserve to eat like kings!" His voice rising again as he lifted his arm in triumph.

Eddie: "Alright, you have inhaled too much grey water." He pointed at him. "Shh. Stop wanting to have intercourse with my mom. She's old and you'd get stuck in there." He wrinkled his nose at the thought. "sh." He snapped his finger and went out to get pie. His mom was taking a nap on her recliner. He grabbed some juice boxes and put them on top. He went into the room and sat down. "I heard Bill and Bev made out with tongue." he said. He set the pie down on his desk and carefully cute them a slice. He set the pie down. "I just took like 3 baths and I still feel gross. I hope that will pass!"

Last message was written 4 minutes ago

Richie: Richie thought about it for a second and then nodded, sagely, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "You're right. I heard that women get all sandy down there when they get old. It would be like putting your dick in sandpaper," he said and sighed heavily, flopping back down on the bed when Eddie went out of the room. He would go, but then he'd talk more and waking Mrs. K up from a nap was never a good thing. "What really?" Ritchie asked, for a moment truly surprised. "I thought Bill was gonna be a virgin forever." He shook his head. "I can't belive Bill is pulling more girls than me this summer. It's cause I've had to take care of your dumb asses the whole time," he said, taking a causal swipe at Eddie's hair, ruffling it. "Eds, you're probably cleaner than I've ever been in my whole life." He took a bite of pie and snorted. "And you let me rub myself all over your bed."

Eddie: "Gross, and gross. Stop it. " He said to everything he was saying. He ate his pie and had to remember to change his sheets before bed. "If you want to get a girlfriend, then you need to hang around girls. Duh." He tapped Richie on the head. "Not at an arcade." He teased. "Which I can not believe you go to. There is underage smoking there." He ate his pie and nodded. "Yeah, and I even heard that some people smoke pot. " He finished up his pie and put his plae down on the desk.

Richie: "You mean you don't like talking about your mom's sandy vagina?" Richie said, leaning close to Eddie and grinning in an almost manic way. He snorted. "I don't want a girlfriend. Girls are boring. Except for Bev. She's fine. For a girl." He lifted his shoulder and laughed. "Yeah, didn't anyone tell you? Smoking is cool. I'd do it, but I'm not great at shoplifting," he said, taking another bite of his pie and grinning at Eddie. "Dude, we're practically adults now. We should be smoking pot. Drinking beer. We only have...whatever days till school starts again. We should be living life. The not in sewers kind."

Eddie: "I mean. My mom has cigarettes. If you want to. I guess I should try. I mean I did almost die by clown." He said. He felt a small bit of fear from it, even if they killed it. Or he thought they did. It was stilla round.. He could come back in 27 years. "It was real weird seeing Georgie. even if it wasn't really him." He said. He closed his eyes. "You dont want a girlfriend? " He asked. "Or you cant get one? " He teased

Richie: Richie finished inhaling the pie and tossed the plate on the carpet, mostly because he wanted to get a rise out of Eddie. "Yeah!" Richie said, his eyes getting even wider behind his glasses. "You have to go steal them, right now. Oh! I can distract your mom, she might kick me out, but we'd have cigarettes then." He felt his steam powered full ahead line of thinking studder to a halt at the thought of Georgie. Before, he'd thought of Georgie as kind of annoying, always wanting Bill's time and shit. He'd felt a little guilty ever sense. "Yeah. Weird," he said softly and the brightened, glad the subject was quickly changed. He tackled Eddie back to the bed. "Why do I need a girlfriend when I got you," he said and laughed, tickling at Eddie's sides. "You're naggy and always try to correct me on shit. That's what girlfriends do."

Eddie: "Yeah, well" He kicked his legs to get Richie to stop tickling him. "I am not a girl. you idiot. I am clearly a male." He stated as he stood up. "No, I can get the stupid cancer sticks on my own. " He nodded. He went to the door. "You stay here. " He felt his face flush a tint pink around his freckled nose. He went to the living room and grabbed her cigarettes. He pulled out one. They only needed one. He was not going to spoil his lungs with much. He left the room. She caught him, but only the back of him. "Mommy loves you, my little sweet potato." he went back to sleep. He went into the bedroom and tossed the cigarette on the bed "There I did it. But we can not smoke here. We must go outside."

Richie: Richie fell back when Eddie kicked him, huffing a little bit and holding his chest. "Damn, Eddie, you almost kicked me in the balls!" He snorted. "Your dick's so small you might as well be a girl," he felt compelled to reply, smiling almsot angelically after. He sat on the bed and watched Eddie go, grinning at the flush on his cheeks. Eddie looked pretty like a girl when he was all blushy. It was kind of annoying. But Richie couldn't stop thinking about it. He was thinking about it so hard he was startled when Eddie came back and felt flushed himself, and shook his head fast, sitting up and looking innocent even though he'd done nothing wrong. "Damn Eddie, you're such a badass," he said when Eddie came back with the cigarettes. "I'm an expert of sneaking out of your window," he said and winked, going over and starting to play with the latches.

Eddie: "Yes, you are a real deal criminal." He said as he crossed his arms and watched him sneak out. He looked back at the door, and decided to take the window route too. He carefully removed his body from his room and stepped lightly on the ground. He cut his leg a little on the window sill and huffed as he pulled a bandaid from his pocket. He always had one on hand. He put it over his scar. "The best place we can go right now, is the woods. "

Richie: "Fuck yeah I am. Did you see me down in that well? Only a real criminal can brain someone with a bat like that," Richie said as he climbed out of the window. He looked over at Eddie when he climbed out and winced when he saw Eddie had cut himself. "Are you gonna go on about AIDS for the whole time we're out now? Don't get infected or bleed out on me, I'm too tired to be british," he said and put a dramatic arm around Eddie's neck, leaning against him. He looked up towards the woods and shrugged. THey used to be kinda scary, but now? Nothing really was. "Yeah lets do it."

Eddie: "No, I will not discuss aids, although you should really be worried about the possiblities. " He told Richie. "It's a serious matter you know." He felt Richies arms around him and ever sincesummer started, Richie had been less about video games and more about spending time with the guys, mostly him. He also was a lot more touchy? Which Eddie secretly did not mind. Did Richie know how caring he became during the IT era? Always proteting Eddie before anyone else. The thoughts and the feelings were confusing. Eddie knew Richie to like girls and like them alot. He walked to a old broken down windmill. "Right here is ideal." He stated. "Before we begin I need to check for my inhaler."

Richie: "I'm not going to lick your AIDS blood, I'll be fine," he said and rubbed his palm against Eddie's cheek as they walked towards the woods. "Hey, Eds, if you didn't get a asthama attack while we were killing that fucking clown, I think you're good," he said and stole the cigarette pack from Eddie. "Hey, did you get a lighter too?"

Eddie: "I do not have aids.If I did, then jokes on you. You also will get it. We cut hands and you touched mine" He said, he still had his stupid cast on. "I do not havea lighter, but I do have matches. You never know when you need to make a bond fire."He pulled out a box of matches. "Here." He said. "You start it." Richie: "I knew it," Richie said, his eyes getting wide. "I knew you were evil behind that cute smile and perfect hair," he said and shoved Eddie lightly in the chest. "You're trying to take me down with you." Richie snorted and rolled his eyes. "If I knew you were talking about setting shit on fire, I'd say that was cool, but I know you mean for nerdy stuff." He shook out a match and pulled out a cigarette, putting it on his lip. Or trying to, to be all cool with those guys that just rested it there, but it fell right down to the ground. "I think these cigarettes are broken," he grumbled and picked it up, dusting it off and putting it back in his mouth, clamping down harder on it and lighting the match. He took one pull on it and let out a hacking cough, bending over and feeling like he was choking.

Eddie: Eddie watched him fail with the first cigarette. He saw him hacking and coughing and went over to pet his back. "Richie, maybe smoking is not meant to be for you. And thank god for that." He pulled out his inhaler. "Here." He put itbetween his lips. "Breath in."

Richie: "Hey, maybe it's just a faulty cigarette," he said and coughed again, wrinkling his nose. "I'm going to try again," he added, sitting up and looking a little wide eyed at Eddie when he put his inhaler in his mouth. That was deep. Eddie put this thing in his mouth, and he went on and on about how dirty mouths were. Richie took a breath in and coughed a little more when the medecine hit the back of his throat but then started to breath easier. "Now Bill and Bev aren't the only one's swapping spit," he said and wiggled his eyebrows at Eddie, looking pointedly at the inhaler.

Eddie: "Ew. Why are you disgusting." He hissed and took his ihnaler and put it back, reminding himself to clean it later. "Try again, mister dean. No one is stopping you." He took the cigarette and held it between his lips. He lit it and inhaled a lung ful of smoke. He knew how to inhale something because of his inhaler. He blew the smoke out of his lips and nostrils. "It's not hard." He handed it over to Richie.

Richie: Richie looked at Eddie with an expression of naked admiration. He was a little annoyed that Eddie made it all look so seemless, but he did and it was just...cool. Eddie was cool, with little whisps of cigarette smoke curling around his face. Even with that fucking fanny pack around his waist. Richie was jealous. That's what it was. He took the cigarette, and felt his cheeks heat up again. "I got it started for you, that's why it was so easy. You're just taking credit for my work, jerk off," Richie said and took the cigarette back. He tried inhaling it again and it still tasted like ass, but he kept it down and let the smoke out of the side of his mouth like they did in movies. "Cool," he said and took another gross drag off of it before handing it back to Eddie.

Eddie: "I guess so. I read there is rat poision in these. It's best we not get addicted." He tossed the cigarette to the ground. "There, how does it feel knowing you have rebelled against the law?" He asked. He heard more sirens headed to Harold's house. "Should we check it out?" He asked.

Richie: "You read too much," Richie complained and watched Eddie toss the cigarette. "It sucks the fun out of everything, Eds." He leaned against the barn and considered for a second, putting his hands behind his head. "I do feel like my dick grew an inch," he said, considering. "Rebelling does that to you. You should do it more often." He heard the sirens and frowned. "Fuck yeah. I want to see what that's about." He knew a short cut and took Eddie's wrist, pulling him through the field and ducking under a broken fence.

Eddie: "Ah, my wrist. Be careful. I only have one that is functioning!" He announced as they ran towards the sirens in the back way part. "I don't awnt to hear about your dick. Eddie. No one does." He said. He had experienc his body reacting to some things. One in particular happening when he was watching Back to the future and felt that Michael j fox was... or maybe it was the woman who played his mom. Anyway, it didnt matter then or now. Rickie was holding his arm in a nice way and it was nice in a way.

Richie: "Liar!" Richie called back brightly. "Everyone wants to hear about my dick. Espeically you." He smiled back at him but kept moving, getting closer to the house. He slowed down as they got closer, but he didn't dropp Eddie's arm, his fingers still curled around his wrist, squeezing a little. "What do you think they're all here for?" he asked, a little hushed as the got closer to the police cars in the drivway, lights flashing over the feild. There was an ambulance too, and some guys carrying a gurney into the house.

Eddie: Eddie watched with interested. "oh probably because its a murder." He teased Richie. "Or a sucide, but I tihnk murder. his father liked being in charge too much. Harold probably did it. I mean he looked crazy at the well." He reminded Richie. "I mean people went missing, but now there is a real deal murder. People will want to know."

Richie: Richie knew they really must have been through some shit, becasue the idea of a regular old murder seemed to be kind of...normal. At least compared to ancient evil clown things. "Harold's always been a crazy mother fucker," Richie said and spat on the ground for good measure. "But I guess he was crazier," Richie said and frowned, finding that his hand was slipping lower on Eddie's wrist so their hands were sort of clasped together. "You think Harold killed him?" Richie said and then pointed wildly, hsi voice rising. "Look! A fuckin body bag like in the movies." One of the cops turned as if he heard something and Richie tugged Eddie down into the tall grass with him.

Eddie: Eddie looked at him when he touched his waist. It seemed like a very kind thing to do, a personal touch. He did like rom coms. He watched them in secret all the time. Well not this summer, but like fall time. With his mom. He sometimes dreamed of being the girl. That day Bev was in her undies and everyone was looking, (including Richie) Eddie mostly just dreamed of being her. He knew it was a weird thought that made no lick of sense to anyone. He ducked down on the grass "Well, they have to use a bag to move the body " He whispered. "look." He pointed out. "Harold. They have him in handcuffs!

Richie: Richie tugged Eddie closer when he saw that Harold was being brought out of the house, feeling a sort of protectiveness surge through him. "That asshole is finally gonna get what's coming to him," Richie breathed, and it was almost a relief, knowing that he'd be behind bars for awhile. If not there would be no way he wasn't coming to send all of them to the hospital. "The rest of them aren't gonna believe this shit," he said, shaking his head a little. Richie felt something wild and destructive surge up in him and he stood up and cupped his hands over his mouth. "Have fun getting butt fucked in prison, dickwad!" Richie shouted, seeing Harold turn his beady eyes their way.

Eddie: Eddie surrended her fears to Richie and let him hold him like that. He had no idea why Richie was being like this. a soft kindness that didnt really fit him normally. Eddie snickered and grabbed his leg when he stood up. He closed his eyes and held in a laugh. He stood up and huffed. "I do hope you have some lube with you!" He added as an insult. "come. we should go."HE turned to run before adults saw them and went after them.

Richie: Richie thought for a second that Eddie might chastize him for...well, doing the thing that he did. Being loud and obnoxious. But he joined right in and Richie felt something surge in his chest. Eddie was surprisingly awesome sometime. For a prissy looking kid who always wore a fanny pack he was so fucking cool. Richie let out a loud laugh and started to run, running after Eddie and diving into the woods, starting to bob and weave just in case they were being followed. "I'm teaching you so well," Richie said when he thought they were far enough away, tugging Eddie into a sideways kind of hug.

Eddie: He hugge dhim back. "No, I taught myself!" He blushed. He raced him back to a pile of trees. He stopped to take a breath. "It's getting dark. " He said. "Should we go back? My mom will come looking for me if I dont."He said. "I think we should."He said. He walked with Richie back to his house and carefully helped Richie climb into his bed room. He jumped up and had him help him in. He got into his room and went out to tell his mother goodnight. She was in bed and wanted a kiss. He kissed her and went back to his room. He remove his shirt and pants and went to grab pjs. "You can wear my biggest pjs. They will feet your tall weird ass."He said. "Let's watcha movie?"

Richie: Richie could see Eddie blushing, even in the setting sun and smiled, reaching out to pinch his cheeks a little before laughing and running off again. He climbed back into the window and reached for Eddie, pulling him into the room and then shutting the window tight. He kicked off his shoes and sighed, remembering for a second that he hadn't told his parents where he was, but then remembered they didn't care. He grinned when Eddie came back froms aying goodnight to his mother. "Did you give her a big wet kiss?" he teased and pursed his lips, making kissy sounds. "And don't be jealous, Eds. Just cause everything about me is extra long," he said and raised his hand for a high five, even though he was pretty sure he wasn't going to get one. Eddie never gave him one. Well...no one did. But at least Stan wasn't here to give him shit about it. He nodded. "What you got?"

Eddie: He sighed and looked at his hand. "no" He shook his head. He grabbed a long shirt and shorts and tossed it at him. He knew most of his clothes were too big for him, because he wasnt very fat or tall. He laid on his bed. "oh, I forgot my mom took my tv out of my room for disobeying her. But, that's fine. We could read togetjher?" He suggested with a smile. "Or play board games, or I can ask my mom for my tv? But you have to hide!

Richie: Richie took the clothes and started to change, sahking his head. "None of you assholes have any taste," he said sadly, before pulling on the clothes that Eddie gave him. They were too tight, but kind of okay. He sat down on the bed and sighed a little. "Naw, don't worry about it. You got any comic books?" he asked. "I don't give a shit what we do," he decided after a moment and yawned extravagently. "You should steal more pie though."

Eddie: "I will get us snacks. I have comic book yes, third drawer. I also found a play boy and brought it home. It's still in it's package." He smiled and walked out toget little debbie snacks and juice again. He came back into the room. "Did you find it?" He asked a bit too excited.

Richie: "Dude really?" Richie said, when Eddie said he had a playboy. Richie hadn't ever actually seen one. But he knew it was the holy grail of contraband kids weren't supposed to find. He reached into the drawer and pulled it out, marveling at the cover. There were boobs. And that was good right? He nodded and looked it over, then jumped when Eddie came back into the room. "Yeah, yeah its right here. I can't beleive it Eds. Boobs. Right here."

Eddie: "I got it from the next door neighbor. His wife threw it at him in plastic, and he left it there." Eddie hadnt really looked at it. "Boobs."He giggled and sat down. "Have you ever been kissed before, like really? I havent"

[camp-camp-imagines]

You're the first person to accept Woodscouts X Reader and I'm crying. Okay, my idea is Pikeman is radioing the others for part of their plan, however someone else comes over the radio. She got the wrong frequency and they start talking, they get along and it goes on for days. Then he asks to meet her. They meet on Spooky island and turns out the reader is a Flower Scout, it's a little awkward for them to talk in person so she picks up a rock and pretends it's a radio to help them talk again. ❤️

I LOVE IT!!!! Also sorry for taking so long… ;v;

~~~~~

Pikeman paced a lap around the table in his planning room; he was waiting for a confirmation response from Petrol about if their popcorn delivery had arrived at the front gates. He only stopped pacing when a static crackled from his walkie.

“Hello…?”

Pikeman nearly jumped out of his skin; that was DEFINITELY not Petrol OR Snake… A girl. How did a girl get on this channel? Pulling himself together, Pikeman plucked the walkie from the table and clicked the button on the side. “You are on a secured channel. Speak your name, rank, and how you got this channel number….!” Pikeman insisted, though his voice creeked slightly, having not been prepared to talk to a girl; speaking with Gwen was one thing because A) she was usually right in front of him and B) he expected rejection from her.

“O-Oh um… My mama told me never to tell strangers my name… Can we use code names…? That’s what you’ve been doing right…? With the other two you mentioned before…?”

Pikeman hummed a bit as he considered this suggestion; it was a reasonable excuse. Most parents didn’t like their children talking to strangers. His parents allowed him to be a bit more independant due to PROVING his responsibility with his position in the Wood Scouts, but even he knew never to give his full name unless introducing himself in person.

“Well I’m sure you already know my… Code name… So what code name do you wish to be addressed by?” Pikeman asked, managing a small smile as he waited for the girl’s response.

“Hmm… How about… Tiger Lily…?” the voice suggested, sounding a bit nervous. Pikeman tried to imagine what this ‘Tiger Lily’ looked like in his head. She sounded young, no older than him, maybe a few years younger. Tiger Lily, maybe a redhead like him…? No, lighter. More of a copper colour. Like the flower she chose to hide her name with. Freckles, of course… He was pulled from his thoughts when Tiger Lily called his name. “Mr. Pikeman…?”

Pikeman cleared his throat before speaking again. “My apologies, Miss Tiger Lily… I must ask again though how did you get this channel number…? Not that I am not enjoying our chat, but as I stated, this is a secured channel…” Pikeman asked, his voice a little less harsh than last time, but with his nerves calmed after receiving a name he could call her, his speech was even and didn’t have it’s previous creeking.

“But… You came onto THIS line…? I’ve only heard your voice the last hour or so…” Tiger Lily insisted, sounding confused.

Pikeman’s eyes widened as he looked down at his walkie channel; she was right. He must have clicked it to a different channel when he slammed it down before. “I’ll call you back.” He quickly insisted before readjusting his channel and clicking the call button. “PETROL, SNAKE, WHERE’S THAT POPCORN DELIVERY?!”

After hours of back and forth arguing and sorting and storing, Pikeman dismissed a pissed off Snake and a… Well a still ever neutral Petrol. Once they were gone from his sight, he let his head hang and let out an exhausted sigh; how could he have let such a small mix up cause so much chaos…? He’d have to be more careful next time with his radio.

The radio.

Pikeman glanced over at the radio that was sitting on the table across from him; Tiger Lily… Would she have waited all that time for him to come back? He’d been gone for so long. ‘She’s probably gone.’ He thought, trying to convince himself not to bother trying, but something gnawed at the back of his thoughts, telling him, BEGGING him to just… Check. Walking over to the table, Pikeman picked up the radio and fiddled a bit with the channel, setting it back to what he’d accidentally had it at before.

With a deep breath, he pressed the call button and spoke. “Tiger Lily, do you copy? Over.” He waited, counting the literal seconds in his head as he waited for a reply from his mysterious radio mate. He’d reached 57 in his head and was about to give up when suddenly there was a crackle from the speaker.

“Hello? Pikeman?”

Pikeman let out the breath he’d been holding and managed a small smile as he pressed the call button again. “My deepest apologies, Tiger Lily. I did not intend on taking nearly as long as we did. Apparently my right hand men aren’t nearly as competent as I thought…” Pikeman grumbled, walking over to his chair to sit. “But with my guidance, everything is sorted and ready for delivery.”

“Goodness Pikeman, you shouldn’t talk about your friends like that… You’re all a team, right? Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.”

Pikeman frowned a little, knowing she was right. “You are correct, my dear… Perhaps I expected too much from them… I’ve been… Irked lately due to our newest recruit from another camp… He means well and tries, but there is no bigger regret I have on this planet than not taking that lanky optimistic counselor Da-”

“He just needs positive reinforcement…! Make sure he knows he’s doing a good job, but lightly suggest another strategy for the things he’s not doing so well on…?” Tiger Lily suggested, cutting Pikeman off. “I know some people who are like that here too, but once you show them a different way and let them try, you definitely see a difference…”

Pikeman smiled again; Tiger Lily seemed like such a kind soul with plenty of intelligence to back it up. “I might try that… Thank you, Tiger Lily…” Pikeman leaned over the table a bit as he watched the radio like it was a screen. “You must be tired of listening to me complain… Shall we change the subject? Like… What sort of hobbies interest you…?”

“Oh gosh I absolutely love baking…! Though I think my favourite thing to do is when we have friendly competitions with the other camp troops… So many very talented people…!”

“I couldn’t agree more, my dear!” Pikeman exclaimed, grinning a bit again.

The conversation took off from there, dipping at times when Tiger Lily would disapprove of some of Pikeman’s methods before rising again when Pikeman realized what she meant and would continue the conversation. This went on for so long that Pikeman didn’t even realize he’d missed dinner.

“Oh goodness, is that really the time…?! I’m so sorry I kept you so long, Pikeman…!” Tiger Lily insisted, sounding rather guilty and ashamed.

Pikeman shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “It’s quite alright dear, the conversation was far too engaging for me to simply stop for a meer meal.” he insisted, standing from his chair to stretch his back and legs. “Our mess hall is usually open later on for officers, so I will still be able to get something, so long as the other officers haven’t eaten everything already.”

“I should probably go too… We’re supposed to make our own dinners here and tonight is pizza night.” Tiger Lily explained, a shuffling sound following her as, from what Pikeman assumed, she stood up. “Could we… Do this again tomorrow…?”

Pikeman had to keep himself from shouting yes at his radio; he couldn’t seem TOO eager… “Perhaps… Is your camp close to Lake Lilac? Tomorrow evening we could meet in person instead…? It would make this much easier to talk in person than over the radio, correct? We could meet on the island that Cameron Campbell’s old summer home is located on…?”

“You mean Spooky Island…?”

“Spooky what now?” Pikeman asked, raising an eyebrow.

After agreeing to meet, Pikeman and Tiger Lily bid their farewells and promised to meet the following night. The day felt like it passed far too slowly for Pikeman’s liking; he just wanted it to be after hours already so he could take the boat out… He was very quick to eat and finish dinner before he began pacing up and down the rows, making sure everyone focused on eating instead of talking because ‘talking could be done AFTER eating and clean down!’.

Once everything and everyone was clean and presentable, Pikeman dismissed them, waiting until every member of his troop was gone before heading off to the docks to borrow the boat; he was sure he was going to be late and hoped that Tiger Lily wasn’t waiting for him… Thankfully, it seemed he was the first to arrive, so he spent the time waiting for her just pacing and thinking; what if she saw his face and immediately didn’t want to speak to him again…? What if she was just nice over the radio but was actually rude in person…?

What if this was a trick by that damned Maxwell…?

Shaking these thoughts from his head, Pikeman stopped pacing upon hearing a boat slide up against the shore; she was here… Pikeman quickly flattened out his uniform and straightened his collar before standing at attention, his arms pressed against his back as he waited for her to appear.

The bushes rustled before a young girl appeared from behind them.

A girl… In a flower scouts uniform… She was very pretty with a cute pair of glasses on her nose, but… He was definitely not expecting her to be a member of one of his rival camps.

“A-Are you… P-Pikeman…?” She asked, taking a few steps toward him.

Pikeman nodded, his professionalism thrown out the window as he wasn’t quite sure how he should introduce himself now that he was seeing her in person. But from what he could see, she wasn’t sure either as her eyes were searching the sandy beach. He watched as she hesitated before hurrying over to the shore line and carefully lifting a flat rock out of the sand, washing it off in the water before bringing it up in front of her face. He watched as she tapped her thumb against the side of the rock.

“H-Hi… It’s Tiger L-Lily…” She stated, her eyes down as she said this before she looked back up at him and lift her thumb off the rock again. Pikeman looked confused at first until he watched her press her thumb down again. “C-Come in, Pikeman… Over…”

It clicked in his head what she was doing and he scrambled to find a rock like she did; he didn’t want to accidentally use his actual radio as it was set to the frequency for the other radios back at camp… Once he found a rock about the size of his radio, he too washed it off and held it like he would his own radio. “I read you, Tiger Lily! I… I must say, you are just as… As beautiful as your voice implied…” He insisted before lifting his thumb to give her a chance to speak.

Tiger Lily blushed, but giggled, pressing her thumb down again. “T-Thank you… You’re quite handsome yourself…” She said into the rock, but looked up from it to look to Pikeman, who was becoming red himself. Pikeman looked from Tiger Lily to the rock and back to Tiger Lily before taking the stone and tossing it into the lake. He then turned to Tiger Lilly, who looked rather shocked and started walking toward her, stopping just in front of her before offering her his hand. “W-would you like to go for a walk…?” He asked with a smile.

Tiger Lily’s eyes darted from the stone to Pikeman’s eyes a few times before she dropped the rock on the ground in exchange of taking his hand, a small smile playing at her lips as she nodded. “I-I’d like that…” She said softly, squeezing his hand before following him along the shore line for their romantic walk in the moonlight.

[all-the-wrong-lines]

Who's your friend? (For Hyuroi week 2017, day 3: "Rivalry")

“Are you even listening to me Maes?” Roy sighed as he halted his story, picking up his glass to take another drink but finding it empty.

Roy’s friend shot his head around, returning to the conversation.

“Of course I’m listening to you Roy, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t pay attention to, uh…” He plastered an innocent expression onto his face. “Remind me what exactly you were saying again?” Roy kept his features stern; if he let Hughes know he found his preoccupation amusing it would be paramount to accepting his indifference. Instead he glanced over at the cause of distraction—a charming brunette sitting at the bar—and decided on a new tactic.

“That brunette over there’s pretty cute.” Roy eyed Maes from the side as he spoke, then darted his gaze over to the girl again to signal a sly interest. Hughes’s eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise as he looked over and let out a small sputter.

“Yeah I suppose she is. Ya know, now that you mention it, maybe I should go over there and talk to her.” He glanced at the ceiling, the worst attempt at nonchalance Roy had ever seen in his life. He felt his smirk growing against his will as he leaned back casually in his seat.

“I dunno Maes, I think she’s more the type to go for an alchemist, don’t you?” He hooked his elbow on the corner of his chair, creating an air of casual confidence. He chanced a look at his friend, seeing his expression shift to something more thoughtful.

“You think every girl’s the type to go for an alchemist.” Hughes leaned back to match Roy’s posture, eyes carefully placed elsewhere in the room.

“Only because they are.” Roy shot back with a laugh. He could see Hughes smirk as he caught on and found a genuine smile creeping it’s way up in response. He leaned forward dramatically, gesturing for Hughes to do so as well so he could whisper into his ear. “Chicks dig power” he mused, attempting a serious baritone but ultimately unable to maintain it. Hughes snorted.

“Power?” an incredulous look crossed his face. “Last week you burned yourself in the field trying to heat your coffee.”

“Uncontrollable power.” Roy put his arms out into a slight ‘what can you do?’ expression. “Even better.” A smile broke onto Hughe’s face as Roy spoke. “Besides. It’s not my fault the idiot who designed our canteen cups decided to make them metal.”

“Well if you’d just heated the water up in the bag like you were supposed to it would have been fine.” Hughes’s eyes hit the ceiling, voice dripping. “Sounds more like an operator error to me.”

“Well I apologize for not wanting to be a sheep Maes.” Roy let his eyes roll up as well, embracing the sarcasm. “Just because everyone else does it that way, doesn’t make it the best way.”

“Except that it is the the best way.” Hughes raised his pointer finger as he spoke, for effect.

“Says who?” Roy pushed some incredulity into his voice.

“Says your burnt fingers.” Maes replied immediately, smirking down at the reddened pads on his friends hand.

“Says the company that sells canteen cups.” All the seriousness of a seasoned conspiracy theorist graced Mustang’s voice. His eyes wandered back to the brunette, she’d ordered a beer while they were talking. “A thousand cenz.” Roy glanced at his friend, waiting for the confused request for elaboration.

“A thousand cenz? What—“

“That she likes alchemists.” Roy watched as Hughes considered his offer.

“You’ll have to be a little more specific Roy.” Hughes raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Most people like alchemists to some degree and I’m not about to lose on a technicality.” Roy considered his options. The more blatant he was, the more likely Hughes was to legitimately compete. Maybe he could stand looking like a bit of an ass if it meant a real, good, old fashioned stand-off. He decided it was best to commit fully, and leveled Maes with his best, cockiest expression.

“A thousand cenz that she comes home with me tonight.” He let his eyes narrow as Maes’s widened minutely at his overconfidence. This Roy expected, but he had to admit he was thrown by the laughter that followed.

“You’re on Roy-Boy.” Maes countered, nostalgia managed to make it’s way onto his face in the way that only Hughes could ever manage, despite being directed at a woman he hadn’t even met yet. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.” Roy smiled and swished the ice around in his glass, drawing attention to it.

“Oh no.” Roy said, deadpan. “It would appear I have run out of alcohol. What a tragedy.” He stood up and gestured widely to the bar. “I suppose I have no choice but to go over there, to the bar, in order to get more.” He backed away from the table as he spoke, turning at the halfway point to walk casually up to the empty space near the lady. Leaning over the counter loosely, he ordered a shot. Absinthe.

Roy didn’t usually do shots. He preferred drinks you could appreciate over a long period of time—strong at first, but slowly mulled by the melting ice. That however, would be no good for his party tricks. As soon as the shot arrived, he pulled a pen out of his pocket. Keeping one with him was a habit drilled into him during training that hadn’t quite had time to disappear.

“Excuse me miss?” He nudged the brunette’s elbow, holding the pen with his other hand. She looked up at him and he was struck by the simple yet inviting features she possessed. “Could I trouble you for your napkin?” She narrowed her eyes skeptically at his pen before raising an eyebrow at him

“I’m not giving you my number.” She said simply, turning to go back to her beer.

“I’m not asking for your number,” Mustang elaborated sweetly, “just your napkin.” The girl gave him another calculating look before sighing and taking the napkin out from under her drink. she passed it to him.

“There’s a condensation ring on it from the glass, is that okay?” Her question showed interest but she wasn’t making eye contact. The fact that she let him borrow it at all was a good sign.

“Actually,” Roy leaned deeper against the bar so his eyes were level with hers, “it’s perfect. Now I don’t have to find something to trace a circle with.” She didn’t look terribly impressed, but she would be.

Drawing the transmutation circle onto the napkin wasn’t the easiest thing Roy had ever done, but having the ring to start with did admittedly make it easier. He could see Maes watching with interest from their table out of the corner of his eye, and that reminded him to do it quickly and cleanly. Screwing up in front of a pretty girl was bad enough, but Hughes would spread the story like wildfire. And he’d lose the bet. Once the circle was finished, Roy reached into his pocket for his lighter.

He played with the spark wheel absently—other hand relaxed on the napkin—before turning to the girl and giving a wink and a flick. Fire shot up and followed a slightly excessive path to the glass, lighting the alcohol ablaze. He chanced another glance at the girl and saw that she was trying not to look interested. Perhaps another tactic was necessary. Which one though?

“You know,” he instructed, “it’s not actually the alcohol itself that’s burning. It’s the vapor.” She didn’t respond, simply glancing at him as he held up the flaming booze to indicate his meaning. “Well, technically speaking the vapor is alcohol,” She looked more interested now, he must be on the right track. “but it evaporates more easily than water because of the way the hydrogen bonds, so it’s still interesting when you compare it to water.” Was she looking at something? He started to turn around to check and—

“Roy-Boy!” Maes clapped him on the back. Hard. Not that he could complain about it without looking like a pansy, but it was clear what it meant. Back off. “I was wondering who this lovely… who this… shit…” Maes was staring at him, alarmed. Roy rolled his eyes, what the hell kind of tactic was this anyway.

“What is it Hughes,” Roy sighed dramatically, “did you forget how to talk or are you just having one of your weird moments?”

“Roy, you’re on fire.”

Roy looked down at his clothing to discover that he was, in fact, on fire. His whole sleeve and part of his torso where in a state of mild burning. Shit. He looked around frantically for the array he’d drawn, setting down his spilled shot. If he could drown out the oxygen, maybe he could stop it before it made it to his skin. Where was that stupid napkin?

There. The girl was holding it. He snatched it out of her hands, focusing immediately on the transmutation.

It wasn’t working, why wasn’t it working? He looked down at the array to see a tear and a smudged lipstick stain. She’d broken the circle. Shit.

“Maes! Do you have any chalk?” Roy looked pleadingly at his friend. The flames where growing, he could feel the heat on his face. Thank the universe he had a thing for wearing layers.

“Why would I carry chalk with me to a bar Roy?” Maes threw his arms out in front of him confused. “We have to smother the fire!”

“I know that Maes, I’m a fire alchemist.” Roy gestured wildly towards his pocket watch, He could feel burns starting to form on his arm, if this took too much longer they could be fairly severe. “do you think I don’t know how to put out a fire? That’s why I need the damn chalk!”

“Why would you need chalk to put out a fire Roy, that makes no sense.”

“Quit lecturing me on how to put out fires Maes, I think I—

Suddenly, a good amount of water was dumped over Roy’s frame. He turned slowly to see the brunette with a small bucket. One of the ones they use to keep wine bottles in ice. The fire wasn’t completely out but the flames were small now and refusing to catch on the wet fabric. He was able to pat the rest of them down until they went away. Roy didn’t say anything, standing as awkwardly as the other two until Hughes broke the silence.

“So Roy, you going to introduce me to your friend?”