#but the fact that these four actually realised that...oh....if youre a jerk then a bigger jerk will come use that against you eventually

[always-a-joyful-note]

Today in Idolish7 keeps surprising me: Crimes Actually Have Consequences

[youaremysamshine]

So I wrote a thing! A whole thing! If you want to read some mostly-angst about Sam’s feelings directly post-Gadreel, then maybe think about reading this? I’ve posted it below and on AO3.

-----

Sam is reeling after he has kicked Gadreel out. He never wants to lose time again - unfortunately, his body needs sleep. 

Post 9.10 "Road Trip"

----- The first night is easy. Tired as Sam is, the fear and pain and disorientation far outweigh any exhaustion, and despite promising Cas he’ll try to get some rest, he never considers actually going to sleep. The idea is absurd. So yes, on the first night it’s almost effortless to avoid sleep. 

The next day isn’t extremely hard, either - in terms of staying awake, that is. It’s plenty hard in other ways, of course, but a staple of Sam’s life has been the sleep deprivation, and he is well practiced in functioning on precious little. He can act awake well, and any slips are easily chalked up to his recovery from the events of the past… however long.

But Cas has now spent time being human, and so notices - where previously he might not have - that Sam needs sleep. And after his prompts have been shrugged off several times by Sam - “It’s only 10, it’s not that late...”, “Yes, Cas, after I finish this chapter…”, “Yeah, I’ll just have a bite to eat first…” - Cas all but leads Sam to his bedroom and tells him to sleep. Now. 

Sam acquiesces to this command, knowing Cas won’t let it rest if he does not, but again, he still has no intention of falling into unconsciousness. The idea of sleep is terrifying. He can’t. He’s well aware his body wants to - his eyes are sore and he has been frequently yawning for the past hour - but he will not give in. Not today. 

He picks up another book from his own shelves - the one he had been reading in the library had been left behind when Cas had shepherded him to his room - and settles down in his chair to read. Okay, he might be needing to reread each sentence to take in the meaning, and yes, he did just spend several minutes wondering if queue was really a word, but no, he won’t yield, this is still far better than-

He startles, jerking forward, bashing his abdomen against the desk. The book has fallen out of his hands, the noise waking him up from his split-second nap. 

Alright, he concedes. I’ll just take a short break.

He sets his phone timer for fifteen minutes. Then ten. Then five. Then ten again. He lies down and shuts his eyes, but immediately gets up again, pacing the room. He cannot do this. He sits down at the desk again, not bothering to pick up the book this time, tapping his fingers anxiously against the wood. He can barely think, he’s so tired. 

Go back to bed, set your timer. Lie down, just stay there. Wait. It’s only ten minutes. It’s fine, Sam. Just ten minutes.  The timer goes off, quicker than he had expected, and he resets it. This will work, this might actually work. He had changed into his pyjamas earlier to placate Cas, and is pleased with the comfort that they afford him now. His eyes close, his body relaxes, finally getting the rest it deserves. 

BEEP. A brief moment of panic checking where he is, that the time is right, but relief soon follows. He resets the timer. He falls back to sleep. 

BEEP. Frustration at being woken up. Relief that he has woken up. Resetting the alarm.

Sleep. BEEP. Repeat. Sleep. BEEP. Repeat. Unconventional, but effective. Sam sleeps. He sleeps well. 

And then suddenly Kevin is there, looking at him trustingly until his eyes burn out and he no longer can and Sam is painfully wrenched back into wakefulness, the name of the boy falling from his lips as his eyes fly open. He scrambles for his phone. 

4:32

It’s 4:32. It should be 2:15. He is certain he’d last restarted his alarm at 2:05. He had been checking each time, paying close attention because he needs to know. 

Oh God, 4:32. That’s two whole hours. Fuck. Anything could have happened in two hours. He can’t -- He needs --

Cas. Shit.

In a blind panic he races for the door, turning into the corridor at high speed, his hunter reflexes being the only thing that stops him from hurtling straight into the man he wanted to find. 

“Sam?” Cas’ voice is laced with concern, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at Sam. But, importantly, he’s still here, still alive, nothing has happened to him. 

“I just…” Sam trails off. Now that he knows Cas is alright, the need to see him has completely changed into a desire to get away, be anywhere else. Cas’s penetrating gaze and worry is not what Sam wants right now. “Toilet,” he finishes lamely, and sidesteps Cas to head to the bunker’s restrooms. 

“Sam, I know you aren’t okay.” Castiel’s deep voice follows Sam down the corridor as surely as the angel does himself. Sam ducks into a cubicle and locks the door, hoping Cas will get the hint. 

“Sam?”

A deep breath. Closed eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m fine.”

He can almost feel Cas’s skepticism about that statement. “I highly doubt that, Sam. Let me help.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sam, I sensed you distress from-” “I don’t WANT you here, Cas!” Even as he says it, he hates himself a little bit more. Cas is just being kind, far more of a good friend than Sam deserves, but right now Sam just can’t stand it. “Let me shit in peace, please,” he adds for good measure.

Footsteps, and Cas’s presence disappears. When Sam makes his way back to his room, he does not see Cas. He’ll apologize tomorrow.

4:44. Three fours. Huh, Good job it isn’t three sixes right? But you can’t get three sixes on a clock, Sam. Unless you count in military.. miltry.. mil-i-ta-ry time? No, don’t be stupid. That only goes up to twenty-two - no, wait, twenty-four? But does it ever reach twenty-four… Oh, crap, I really, really need to sleep. 

4:45. Only one more hour until. Until what? He was going to say until he can get up, or at least, pretend to get up, and go about yet another normal day, no longer needing to feign sleep. But it hits him now that he’s still going to be bone-tired.

He wonders at how he has missed this great, big, obvious fact. He’s been so caught up in avoiding sleep right here, right now, every single minute, that he’s lost the bigger picture. How long can he carry this on for? The rest of tomorrow? Until Wednesday? But he’ll have to stop at some point. 

This is too big, too awful, for him to contemplate right now. No, right now he does not need to sleep. And he can continue doing that. Saying no. He’s good at saying no. He just needs to keep on, just keep on, Sam. 

The next hour goes as slowly as the last two had gone quickly. Eventually he judges it a suitable time to leave for the kitchen to get coffee. He’s thought of how to apologize to Cas, reworded it several times, a good distraction from anything else in his head. 

The kitchen is empty. He still stops every yawn, stifles every urge to rub his eyes. Cas will not get a chance to send him back to bed. The coffee helps, a little, and the second one even more. Cas walks in as he is sipping his third. Sam can’t read his expression. He instinctively lowers his eyes, looks away from Cas, then realises this could be seen as rude, and looks up again. He doesn’t want to hurt Cas more. 

“Hey, Cas.”

“Good morning Sam. Did you sleep?”

Sam notices that Cas missed off the “well” that usually accompanies the end of that question. Cas really knows him. 

“Yeah, thanks.” It isn’t exactly a lie. Sam is fairly certain he had fallen asleep for those two hours, and that has to count for something, right? He quickly plunges on, needing to put the apology out there as soon as possible, and ends up stumbling over his words in his haste. 

“Look, Cas, erm- I’m really sorry about pushing you off last night. I’m not really sure why I acted like that but yeah, it was- I shouldn’t have.” 

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas replies simply. “I was worried - and I was wondering if this morning you might be wanting me to leave properly, to give you your space.”

“What? No!” Sam stands up, needing to ensure Cas does not think that necessary. “No, that’s not at all what I… Well, I mean,” he bites his tongue and thinks about his words. “If you want to go, of course, I don’t want to be the thing that stops you, but no. I was just tired and, well, like you said, not okay last night. I want you to stay here, of course I do - that is, if you want to stay here?” He’s looking at Cas cautiously, hopefully, but is suddenly convinced that of course Cas will leave, everybody leaves.

“My wish is to stay here with you,” Cas says. Sam lets out an involuntary sigh of relief. 

“You look surprised,” Cas comments. Sam is taken aback at how easily Cas can read him. 

“Yeah, no - I… You don’t need to, like, look after me, or anything. And I was horrible to you last night.”

Cas frowns. “But I want to look after you, Sam Winchester. You’ve suffered a great deal and that needs to be put to rights. I am your friend. As for last night - I understand that you were tired; you have now apologised, and it is forgotten.”

Sam stares and nods his head, a little unsure how to react to Cas’s words. “Thank you,” he manages to say, quietly, and Cas’s gentle smile suggests that he might be aware of everything else Sam means beyond the two words. 

Cas walks slowly towards Sam, raising his arms somewhat awkwardly. “If you would like,” he says, “the hug we shared yesterday was rather comforting, and I would like to give you that again.” 

Unbidden, Sam’s mind snaps back to their first meeting. “The boy with the demon blood,” Cas had called him, then. He marvels at how far Cas has fallen, to be here, now, with him, but selfishly he closes the gap, and allows himself to be hugged. It’s the best he’s felt in a long while. 

-------

A second part may happen but probably not. Subscribe over on AO3 if you’re feeling lucky :P

[riseofarmy]

02 | SO THERE'S THIS MAGIC BOY

i can do this all day 02 | so there's this magic boy

author : @riseofarmy

pairing : kim seokjin x original character

words : 2343

i can do this all day masterlist

previous chapter

DARLING

What. The. Hell.

Before me stands a man I've never seen before in my life. He's barefoot, loose harem pants hanging low on his hips and an open vest doing nothing to hide his bare chest. The most startling thing about him though is his hair. It's purple, as in I Am The Love Child Of Amethysts And Lilac purple.

I don't get how I could've missed someone as stand-outty as him.

He leans down elegantly to pluck the lamp from the floor and my heart seizes up instantly. I have no idea where he came from, or how he got so close to me without me realising, but one thing I do know - this piece of shit is not getting away with my lamp.

With a swipe of my foot at the stranger's legs, I fell him like a tree. He shrieks, trying to pick himself up, but I pounce on him, sitting on the back of his thighs and twisting his arms behind him so he has to curl backwards to stop his arms from hurting. I pull out the twine I store in one of my pockets, intending to tie up his hands, but then...

He's gone.

As in gone-from-under-me gone, making me fall onto my back since the hands I was pulling have goddamn disappeared. Disappeared! Again: What. The Hell. I stare at the ceiling, trying to orient myself. He was right there and then he was... not.

"I can't believe you just did that to me, like surely you knew how that would make me feel."

The man stands next to my knocked-down body, bending over to look me in the eye. He flicks a lock of purple hair off his face with a lop-sided grin that might have been meant to make me feel at ease but instead makes me growl in irritation. I make a grab at his ankles, but I only touch them for a moment before my hands close around empty air.

That did not just happen.

Except it did. He's out of my arm's reach and fanning his face lazily as I get on my feet, eyes lasered in on the lamp still in his hand. He twirls it carelessly and I totally lose my mind, snapping forward to jump on him again.

This time, I manage to tackle him to the ground again and lock his head into my elbow before-

"Don't bother, you'll just tire yourself out." Suddenly, he's on the other side of the small room, a roguish curl to his lips as he lounges on one of the bigger chests of gold. He notices me twitch in his direction, and with a wave of his fingers, I'm frozen.

It's an awful feeling, like time has stopped, but only for me. There's an emptiness in my chest that takes me a second to place, but then I realise what it is - I can't breathe! Somehow, I know that my lungs have stopped working, my heart has stopped beating, that the only thing working in me right now is my thoughts.

And then he lets go of me. I suck in a grateful breath, flexing my fingers until I'm sure my blood's flowing again.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit literally what the hell.

"Please tell me you've calmed down." I flick my gaze up to find the strange man eyeing me warily. He has a better grip on the lamp now and isn't flinging it around like before, so I force myself to stay on the ground even though I was itching to take it from him.

"Who are you?" My voice cracks, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, his expression clears up significantly into an overly bright beam.

"You know what, I have a song prepared for exactly that question, gimme a second to change." Before I can consider the ridiculousness of that statement, he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's wearing...

Actually, what is he wearing?

He has on a startlingly white jacket, with odd, overblown shoulders, and a matching pair of breeches that were fitted to his body and made of a stiff material. The outfit was studded with what looked like diamonds, his hair was slicked back off his forehead, and the whole look completed with a set of short, silver boots.

I can't help it. Before I can slam a palm over my mouth, a snort slips out.

The man looks a little shocked, mouth dropped into a horrified 'O'. "Are you laughing? At me? Why are you laughing?!"

"You look... What are you wearing?"

He splutters, ears reddening so quickly they might just pop. "Do you not have any taste? This is high fashion, the result of a gorgeous marriage between class and art and I look stunning."

This man was serious! His hand was curled into a fist and he looked almost comically furious, but I just couldn't take him as anything but a joke.

Especially not when, a few seconds later, he lets out a scream and jumps onto a chest. It takes me a moment realises that the thing that had him currently shaking like a leaf was none other than... Yoongi.

Yoongi, my little furball cat, who slinks past the terrified man and curls into my bent form.

"Wait. Are you scared of cats?" When he doesn't reply, I have my answer. The man flinches as I stand up and step closer to him, eyes trained on the only-slightly-feisty ball of fluff at my feet. "How does this sound: you give me the lamp back, and I won't tell Yoongi to bite you."

At this, the man looks up. "The lamp is yours anyway! Take it! Just keep that thing away from me! WHY IS IT COMING CLOSER?!"

I stop moving closer to him, eyebrows furrowing - it seems too easy. I pat Yoongi's bum and direct him to the other side of the room before turning to address the man again. "You'll just... give it back to me? Then why did you take it in the first place?"

Now that Yoongi's further away, the man looks at me directly, throwing his hands up in what was probably frustration.

"Are you out of your mind? Seriously, did you get knocked on the head too hard before or something? Why would I take the lamp? It's literally yours? I can't? Do anything with it? Just? Take it?"

It was my turn to splutter. "Well- I- Alright then? I'll just? Take it?" It's strange to be talking in question marks, but everything about this situation is strange and I don't have the time to get hung up on the details.

I rush forward before he can change his mind, swiping the lamp from his hand. I cradle it to my chest, deciding right there that the next person to even glance at it without my permission is getting castrated.

"Can't you keep it away from me?" The stranger jerks his head at Yoongi, who was pawing through a pile of gold, completely unaware that he was the object of the man's derision.

"It isn't even near you and it has a name. Yoongi. He's not gonna hurt you."

"Mmm-hmm, that's what they all say before letting those monsters maul your face off."

"It's a little concerning how oddly specific that was, but Yoongi's not gonna 'maul your face off', he can't even catch rats. Anyway, can't you just save yourself by doing whatever it was you did before?" Before, when my body stopped but my mind didn't. "Um. What did you do before."

"Well, that's exactly what I changed into this incredible outfit to explain!" He gestures at himself, the diamonds throwing light around the room. "I literally told you I have a song prepared. You have a problem with that?" He adds in the question, probably realising that my face was twisted in disgruntlement.

"Can't you just say it?"

The man visibly deflates, and I almost take my words back. Almost, but not really. He clicks his fingers again and he's back in the harem pants and vest, then once more, and two plush armchairs appear. I think I'm already desensitised to things popping into existence.

"Sit," he gestures, plonking into the one opposite. "Since you want to do this the boring way. What do you want to know?"

I sink into the seat, half expecting it to disappear from under me, but it holds. Yoongi jumps into my lap, and I quickly look up at the man for his reaction, but he seems to have calmed down from his initial fear - he just purses his lips and avoids looking at Yoongi.

"I guess I'll start with... Who are you? And how did you get here without me noticing?"

He cocks his head. "Do you even know what the lamp is?"

I look down at my lap where Yoongi was batting at the purple gem in the lamp. I don't want to let on that I knew what the lamp can do, but something gave me the feeling the man already knew. "Yeah, it's a magic lamp. Makes all your wishes come true."

"Wow, it's so interesting that you think that because that's wrong."

Cue round two of me spluttering. This man did not just show up, out of nowhere, and deny what I have known for the last eight years.

"Wrong? What do you mean wrong, I'm supposed to be the only one left who knows about this lamp."

"And who told you about it? Actually, it doesn't matter, because sorry to disappoint you, honey, but whoever it was didn't have their facts straight. The lamp doesn't do anything, it's just a vessel for the real wish granter. That's me."

I blink, waiting for the punchline. It doesn't come, though, and the man cocks his head again, an amused smirk lifting his lips.

"Since you haven't figured it out yet, I'll spell it out for you. I am a djinn, a genie if you will. And since you freed me, you are now my master until I grant you your wishes." He furrows his eyebrows. "No wait, I've missed something. You know, my song was perfected to give all the information you need in the right order and now you've messed me up."

And then he starts humming something under his breath, bobbing his head to the beat in his head. "Oh! You have four wishes. And my name is Seokjin."

"What?!" Oh hell no.

"Yikes, what's with that reaction. Seokjin isn't a weird name or anything so-"

"No, what do you mean four wishes? I'm supposed to be able to make as many as I want!" If I can only have four wishes...

"I mean exactly that. I can grant you four wishes, no more, no less - not that anyone's ever wanted less. And before you even think it, you can't ask for more wishes." He looks at me sternly, as if it's something he's had to say repeatedly.

His words feel like a physical blow to my chest, winding me and making my brain blank. Four wishes. That certainly is less than I had planned for, but I guess it could have been a lot worse. I could have had only one wish, or I could have never found the lamp. Yes, thank goodness I have at least this many - I just have to make sure I make it count.

"Are you okay? You haven't said anything for, like, two minutes. I mean, I'm used to people becoming speechless in my presence, but you look more stressed out than in awe, so."

"Huh?" I shake myself out of my increasingly spiralling thoughts. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... Wait, the ball!"

Only four wishes? This new stranger I'm apparently stuck with? Both of those I can deal with, I can find a way. But if I miss this ball then it doesn't matter how many wishes I have, I won't even be able to start with my revenge plan.

The ball, as in the prince's twenty-third birthday ball, which is only a week away. It was announced by the king when the prince was only ten: a grand ball open to nobility from all over the world. Even in Paaratham, the announcement sent tremors through towns because the prince was to choose his bride from among all the single noblewomen that attended.

I'm not from a noble family, and I'm definitely not a princess, but I'm determined to be the one the prince chooses.

The lamp was supposed to help me with that, and I had planned to wish myself into the kingdom after getting the lamp, but that's not an option anymore. If I wanted to get there in time, I need to leave now.

Immediately, I snap into action. I start stuffing my pockets with gold, since I don't have much more money on me, and packing into my rucksack the few bolts of fabric that were already tailored into clothes. The man - Seokjin, I tell myself - only stares at me, until I address him.

"Some of us can't magic up stuff whenever we want, so excuse me for snatching what the dead won't use anyway. Is there anything from here you want to take?"

"Me?" He looks shocked, probably thinking I must be dumb to ask a genie if he needs anything.

"No, the creeper behind you. Yes, you, is there anything you need from here? You have two minutes."

I go back to filling my pockets as Seokjin frantically rustles through the room. I don't see what he's getting but he seems satisfied when I call him to me.

Yoongi meows at him, obviously wanting to investigate Seokjin, but I pick him up and lay him on my shoulder. I kinda want to figure out this whole genie thing too, but I don't have the time right now.

Right now, I've got to get to the capital, Mansae. Everything else I can sort out later.

"Alright, magic boy. Let's get outta here."

i can do this all day masterlist

next chapter

[alienduckpond]

Back in town - ch 4 - Slip Up

Mistakes are made when Ella assembles the Amber Island bridge.

Warning for a little bit of angst, and a mention of a remembered childhood accident? It’s not graphic, but I think it needs warning for?

1 - Good Day / 3 - BooBoo Pouch

-~-

Arlo hitched Spacer to one of the wooden planks stacked up between the path and the river, shifting Ella’s tool belt closer to the middle so it wouldn’t fall off if Spacer pulled. There was still a huge amount of material left to be added to the bridge, considering that Ella had already been constantly working on it for two full days now.

But then, this was one of the bigger projects that the guild had hosted, he thought as he walked down to the bank, squinting in the fading daylight at the bare bones of the structure she’d made so far. And the fact that she was already assembling the whole thing, only three weeks after she moved to town and getting her license, was incredibly impressive.

She was standing on one of the stone pillars closer to the Island side, tying together what looked like the last of the connections of giant pipe and hardwood log that would make up the edges of the bridge which stretched from bank to bank, to the thick crossways support beam. He watched her tie a series of knots with an appreciative quiet hum before Ella stood up and pulled on the rope, using her weight to secure it snuggly as she dangled back over the water, and he could see her look of intense concentration in the light from the lamp on the cross beam.

Stopping to wait by one of the end supports, a huge slab of wood buried in the ground, he thought she met his eyes when she half turned towards him. Her eyes were flickering in the light from the lamp as she gripped the rope one handed and leaned further out over the river, stretching her other arm out as if reaching for the waterfall. But since her face was pointed almost directly at him he lifted his hand and waved. 

“Hey Ella, any idea how much--"

The shriek she let out when her head jerked slightly, her feet actually leaving the stone pillar as she jumped in shock, made him flinch. He had a split second to register that she was most definitely looking at him now before he had to watch in what felt like slow motion as she grabbed at the rope which was slipping through her fingers. Because the same reflex that had made her jump had also made her let go of the rope.

And since she'd been leaning off the pillar, that meant that her precarious footing and support became no footing and support, and he could do nothing but stare as she tipped backwards, and fell into the water with an enormous splash.

Swearing as he hurried forward to the edge of the river, he grit his teeth and jumped down into it while his head filled with memories of the last time she’d fallen in. He stared desperately at the spot she’d gone under between the upriver pillars as he waded forward, but the water was dark in the fading light, and the lamp shining from above was making the surface reflective.

“Ella?” he called, panicked and preparing himself to go even further out into the freezing water and find her, but then her head broke the surface and she gasped and spluttered. She flailed a little bit before one of her hands pushed her sopping wet hair from her face, long enough for him to catch the murderous glare she sent him before she let go and it immediately fell back down with a heavy slap.

“Lolo! You are dead when I get over there!” she yelled, kicking forward and starting to lurch towards him, swimming one handed as her other hand held her thick hair out of her eyes again. “I swear, you really are a jinx! I hadn’t dropped anything in the river the entire time I’ve been here but the second you show up I fall in?”

He let out a silent sigh of relief as she kept ranting while she swam closer. She was fine. She wasn’t four years old and unable to swim. She was fine. But then he started to actually listen to what she was saying, and choked on a laugh. He hadn’t heard words like that since he’d walked past a group of drunk Duvosian sailors while he was in Tallsky. And hearing such words in Ella’s normally sweet voice was, was not something he’d ever expected to happen.

“Ella!” he finally managed to get out, not sure if he was shocked more that she knew words and phrases like that, or that she was directing them at him, and watched as she rolled her eyes, lip pulling back in a sneer. He stepped out further into the water, wading forward till it swirled around his thighs to reach for her, grabbing her wrist when her hand slapped into him and turning to start pulling her closer to shore.

"Oh shove off Lolo, I’m almost certain you’ve heard worse in your time with the Corps.”

“Well, yes,” he admitted, tugging her forward to a shallower stretch of river bed and helping her stand next to him. She stumbled slightly as the force of the water buffeted her, and he shifted himself to stand upstream to block it. “But there’s a difference between hearing random people saying it and, well, you.”

She groaned and dropped her head, and he knew she was rolling her eyes at him even without seeing it. Letting go of her wrist to wrap his fingers around her arm above her elbow firmly, he tugged her into movement again, trying to shield her as best he could from the flow.

“We’ve been over the whole I’m an adult now thing, right?” she asked, sounding slightly more annoyed than amused. “I’m pretty sure we’ve covered it several times now that I’m a real proper grown up person, who is allowed to do things like swear.”

“We have, but you’ll always be my sweet and innocent little Beany Boo to me,” he told her cheerfully, trying to ignore her disdainful snort which was followed immediately by a sneeze as they reached the bank. Shifting his hand back down to hers, he climbed up onto solid ground in one step, then waited while she grumbled at him and his stupidly long legs before pulling her up when she nodded at him. He reached forward to grab her other hand when she yelped as her foot slipped out from under her as the mud gave way, and pulled her against his chest before moving to wrap his arm around her to hold her steady. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” she muttered, sounding petulant. “I’m still mad at you though. The water's bloody freezing."

Slowly dropping his gaze to his own legs, the waterline halfway up his thighs standing out starkly in the light from the lamp even at this distance, he then lifted his eyes to meet her sparkling ones as she leaned into him, and he felt a shiver run up her back. 

"You don't say," he said dryly, keeping his expression and voice as blank as possible, which earned him the snort he’d been hoping for. “Come here pest, let’s get you warmed up.”

“Don’t you pest me,” she snarked, pausing to sneeze as he tried to lead her to Spacer. “It’s your own fault we’re both wet you bloody jinx. If anyone’s a pest, it’s you.”

She cut herself off with a string of sneezes, wobbling forward and clutching at his arm when they were done, and he frowned as he looked her over, seeing another shiver shake her body. She sniffed and wrapped her arms around herself, and immediately leaned against Spacer when they reached him.

He sighed fondly, then started unbuckling his shoulder harness and unzipping his jacket. He shrugged it off and spun it round and over her head to settle it on her shoulders, quickly sweeping her heavy mass of hair up and onto the outside of it before holding the sides up with a grin.

“Arms.”

“Damnit Arlo, what did I just say about me not being a kid anymore? You don’t need to fuss over me like this, it’s not like I was going to drown out there!” she snapped, glaring up at him and jerking herself backwards, and he felt his smile falter as he met her eyes. But he kept watching her, letting his face settle into his blank Captain’s mask as he waited. She finally huffed and did as he asked, shoving her arms into the sleeves and standing still as he tugged the front together, then reached for the zip.

It took him several tries to hook the zip in place, then he pulled it up quickly to the top of the collar by her nose, letting go as soon as he could and stepping away from her.

“Not this time, no. But you almost did. When you were four. Right here, on the old Amber Island bridge. So I’m sorry, but you’ll have to forgive me for wanting to reassure myself that you’re ok this time.”

Turning around before she could say anything else, he walked swiftly to the bridge frame and up onto the pipe. He ignored the way his shoes squelched as he made his way to her lamp, trying to not actually think about anything. Quickly leaning down to grab the handle, he paused when he saw how badly his hands were shaking.

She had to have no idea. That was the only reason she’d have said what she did. She wouldn’t, there was no way she’d have gone there if she actually remembered. She wasn’t like that.

The memory hit him again and he pressed his palms against his eyes. 

Gust and Ella bickering on the bridge, one of them having done something to the other yet again. Then Ella's high pitched yell. Gust screaming her name. 

Looking up from cleaning Sonia's scraped knee in time to watch Gust hit the water, and both him and Paulie scrambling into the river to try to grab him. Only for Gust to pop up, spluttering and holding Ella. 

Ella who was coughing and gasping and clinging to Gust’s neck, who was trying his best to keep them afloat as Arlo and Paulie swam over. Ella who had almost gone under again when she tried to wriggle out of Gust’s hold before Arlo was close enough to catch her.

Ella who had stayed in bed for a week with a sniffly fever and cried whenever he left her sight.

Pressing harder against his eyes, he dropped into a crouch to rest his elbows on his knees. She'd been fine. She'd been completely fine afterwards and never acted any different or like she'd even realised anything had happened, aside from her sudden dislike of sea urchins.

He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face and into his hair, anchoring himself with the faint pain as he clenched his fingers.

Because while he was pretty sure he was allowed to be slightly over protective right now, given the circumstances, she, she did have a point about the him treating her like a kid thing.

He had been getting better about catching himself before he could fall into old habits, most of the time. He wasn’t reaching out to clean the grease or food off her face, or brush dirt out of her hair. And he’d been letting her pay for her own things after she made a huge point about him putting everything on his tabs around town. He’d tried to bite his tongue and wait for her to come to him to ask what it was she’d done to upset people, before he helped her fix things, like he had the first time she met Merlin. And he was fine with standing back and letting her lift and carry things, since he’d seen first hand she was just as capable as he was, possibly even able to carry things for longer.

But seeing her soaking wet and shivering, here at the Amber Island bridge…

It had been way too close to that memory.

He pulled his hands down over his cheeks, counting to twenty before dropping them completely to grab the lamp and push himself up. He rolled his shoulders and breathed deeply one last time, then turned and started back. He kept his eyes on his feet, concentrating on staying on the flattest part of the edge so he wouldn’t slip. His waterproof boots really were amazing, in that they hadn’t let any of the water out of them yet, which was throwing off his sense of balance slightly.

Stumbling slightly when he jumped the last few steps to the dirt he looked over to Spacer, expecting to find Ella already mounted and waiting for him. But she wasn’t. She was exactly where he’d left her, staring at the floor and hugging herself tightly, the sleeves of his jacket dangling down off her hands.

She looked utterly ridiculous. Adorable, but ridiculous. And he mentally scolded himself for thinking so after everything she’d said today, but she really did. 

The sleeves ended a good hands length past her fingertips, and the bottom hem which normally sat nicely on his hips reached down to her thighs. The zip was poking at her nose, completely hiding her mouth given how high the collar was on her, and she seemed to be doing her best to shrink down and hide behind it as he crossed the space between them to stop in front of her.

It was just like when she’d been a kid, stealing his jumpers whenever he wasn’t looking to bury herself in, and while he’d normally find the thought amusing and possibly heart warming, right now it was making him feel… empty.

He tipped his head back to stare at the clouds, frowning when he saw how dark and fast they were moving. He sniffed, the smell of rain thick in the air, and looked back down at the top of Ella’s head.

“It’s about to rain. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.”

Shaking her head and bending it further forward, he had to lean in to hear her when she started to mumble, muffled as she was by his collar.

“I’m still damp, and I don’t want want to get your saddle wet. I’ll sit behind you.”

He sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair and considered arguing, before deciding he simply didn’t have the energy right now. He walked past her and untied Spacer, grabbing her work belt as he did and throwing it over his shoulder. He hooked the lamp on one of the saddle hooks then pulled himself up, taking his foot from the stirrup and holding his hand down to help her mount. He waited till she’d settled behind him, her hands resting lightly on his hips, and he bit down the sigh that wanted to escape. Instead, he simply grabbed her hands and pulled them forward, wrapping them around his waist until he felt her snug against his back, gripping her hand when he felt her try to pull away.

“Hold on tight please, I’m going to cut across the llama field and I don’t want you falling off,” he said, keeping his voice professionally bland. He let go of her, waiting for a second to see if her hands would stay where he’d put them, and then grabbed the reins and kicked Spacer into motion.

They crossed the road in silence, and he settled a hand on top of hers again when Spacer jumped up the small ledge only to immediately let go as soon as they were on flat ground. He could hear the wind picking up, and the smell of rain was getting stronger. Hopefully he’d be able to get back to the Corps before it really started, since he was going to be leaving his jacket with her. Which he should talk to her about.

He tried different things in his head as they trotted across the field, the only sounds the wind rustling the branches of the trees as it picked up speed, and then her sneezes as the wind whipped around them and made her shiver against his back. He nudged Spacer around her fence, then pulled him to a stop at her gate.

Well, it was now or never he guessed. 

“I’m sorry for startling you and making you fall,” he started, deciding his Captain voice was probably best for what he needed to say. “I thought you were already looking at me or I’d have got your attention some other way. And I’m sorry for how I’ve been treating you.”

Her hands tensed against his stomach, pulling against him, and he tried to ignore it as he went on.

“You’re right. I sometimes treat you as the little girl I knew before, as my darling little sister who needs watching over, and you aren’t her. You’re an independent young woman now who knows all sorts of things, and who is more than capable of looking after herself. You’re an adult, and a member of our community, and you don’t need me coddling or protecting you. As the Captain of the Corps, I should have done better and treated you more fairly. I promise, I’ll stop treating you differently, and--”

“No,” she shouted, sounding choked as her hands pulled tightly against him, squeezing at his sides. He heard her growl a string of muttered profanity as she let go of him, then she shifted against his back. She pulled away from him completely, and he whipped his head around to look back at her only to collide with her cheek as she draped herself over his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him back against her chest. She turned her head into his, her wet fringe pressed into his cheek and she made a soft, choked noise.

“No, it’s, it’s ok. I know I complain, but I, I don’t mind. I, I really like when you look after me. It’s nice to be reminded that you care, ya know? I’m sorry Lolo, I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She trailed off with an actual sob, her body shaking against his back, and shit!

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she went on, voice thick around her tears. He reached up to wrap his fingers around her arms, trying to pull her away so he could turn, but she held onto him tighter. 

“I know I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I’m just all aggy today and I took it out on you when you didn’t deserve it. I, I. It’s no excuse, but I didn’t have anyone in Barnarock to help me. There was no one there who understood me. Kendra was alright, but, but she weren’t Ma, and she weren’t you. There was no one who understood me or who helped me with people, no one who explained things like you did, and I couldn’t rely on anyone so I ended up doing everything myself. And then coming back here and having you looking after me again is so, it’s all--”

She stopped, letting off a soft whine as she pressed her face into his, and he felt her tears start to slide down his cheek. He started shushing her, leaning his head into hers with as much pressure as he could and holding her arms while he made comforting noises.

“Please, please don't stop looking after me and being my Lolo. Please don’t leave me. I don't want to stop being your Ella, or your Beany. I, please?”

She stopped completely then, her sobs loud in his ear and her arms like iron bands around him. He stroked her arm, and tried to shift his hand to stroke her hair too but he couldn’t from the angle they were in. He opened his mouth to try talking to her, to tell her it was all ok, but there was a lump in his throat. A lump of all the feelings from the evening he wasn’t sure he could identify, that was making words impossible and his own eyes itch.

He simply pressed his cheek into her again, rubbing against her as best he could as he started to hum. An old tune that his Ma used to use when he was little, and he’d used on her when she was a baby. Probably not the best thing he could do given everything, but it was all he could think of right now.

It seemed to work though, since her crying slowed to the occasional wet hiccup. She slid down his back, her arms moving from around his shoulders to settle loosely around his own, and he could finally wriggle his way free to spin round, throwing his leg over Spacer’s head and sliding off.

He held his hands up to her, wriggling his fingers when she simply sat and stared at him, sniffling loudly. She hiccuped, then sneezed before she leaned forward to swing her leg backwards, and he caught her around the waist as she fell towards him. He set her on her feet then wrapped his arms tightly around her, copying the position she’d had him in and pulling her as close as he could, not caring about her sopping hair trapped between them.

“I’m sorry Ella. I’m sorry. But it’s ok. It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’ll, I’ll be here as long as you want me to be, ok? We just, we just need to work out some boundaries I think. But we can do that later. Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s going to start raining any minute and you’re already soaked.”

He let go of her when she nodded mutely, her hands scrubbing at her face. He moved round her to smile softly, holding her face between his palms and rubbing at the tear tracks under her eyes. 

“Go on inside now, I’ll come see you tomorrow. I should be free after two maybe, so-”

“Can’t you come in now?” she interrupted, hiccuping slightly at the end. “Can’t, can’t you come in and we can talk now? You, you can come in and warm up and I can wash and dry your clothes. I’ve got pyjamas that might be loose enough to fit you, and plenty of blankets for your stupidly long legs.”

Huffing a laugh at her attempt to lighten the mood, he pulled back and started to shake his head, and she grabbed at his arms. The ends of the sleeves flipped over to wrap around him, as if joining in her pleas for him to stay.

“Please! I finished fixing the loft, and I’ve been setting up a blanket fort up where my old bedroom was. We can go sit in it, and I’ll make tea and cocoa, and you can, you can tell me more about what you got up to while I wasn’t here. I want. I mean, I. Just. Please?”

Staring at him, eyes wide and hopeful, it took effort to look away and glance up at the clouds, then close his eyes to listen. He could faintly hear the rain already falling somewhere, which meant it’d be on them soon enough, and he really should go.

“Spacer can come in too! I can set a tarp down so he doesn’t make a mess, and I’ve got a bunch of apples inside he can eat, and other veg. So, please? Please stay Lolo?”

Slowly opening his eyes to look at her again, his resolve wavered further. Lips wobbling, eyes begging, he sighed. Because he never had been able to say no to her.

He reached out and pushed her gate so it swung open, then gripped her shoulder to turn her towards her house. He smiled at her when she tried to resist, her eyes welling up again as they stayed locked on his and her lip wobbling more.

“You better go find that tarp quickly, or else you’ll have a very wet horse to clean up after.”

-~-

5 - Unexpected Discoveries

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Could you write an au thingy where James is a strappin young zoo keeper (muggle or magic idk), and Sirius falls into a carnivore pit of sorts, and James has to save him. Preferably they've never met.

((A/N: This is a Jurassic World AU, and no Sirius doesn’t fall in, someone else does. But hey there’s first meetings and a little bit of dinosaurs and getting together and stuff.)) 

Sirius watched the proceedings with his arms crossed over his chest and an impassive look on his face though truly he was impressed. Potter seemed to be as good as they said, and considering how much they’d gushed over him, that was saying a lot. Gorgeous too, if you liked the rugged outdoorsy look-- which he did. Nothing like Sirius in his pressed suit, perfectly pulled back hair, and precise make-up.

The raptors ran free in their enclosure when Potter gave the all-clear, leaving Sirius free to study him further, even if not in interaction with the creatures. Sirius sighed to himself, brushing away the faint idea of a hook-up. Even if he weren’t here on a professional level, he surely wouldn’t be the kind of bloke Potter was interested in.

Sirius was about to approach when he saw some military arsehole approach Potter and strike up a conversation. Well, perhaps ‘conversation’ was too kind a word; it looked much more like arguing. They made their way down the stairs to the walling of the enclosure but didn’t follow. They’d be talking for a bit longer and Reg was always saying he needed to be more connected to the dinosaurs (though Sirius always argued back that ‘being connected’ wasn’t his job, and was useless besides). He rested his hands against the railing in front of him to wait, eyes on the open space and foliage on the ground. The raptors came into sight a minute later, talking to each other and nipping harmlessly in the others’ direction.

He glanced to the side when he heard a pig squealing. Eh. He looked away, figuring that either the little thing would make its way to the escape port for itself, or it’d be an unexpected snack for the raptors. He jerked his head back when he heard someone shouting “Pig loose!” like they were planning on doing something about. Don’t do it, don’t fucking-- He swayed forward involuntarily when the kid fell in the raptor enclosure-- well, not a kid, a teenger, but stupid stupid stupid and too young to die just because he was too dumb to realise the pig was worth less, a hell of a lot less, than his life.

Sirius’s hands went white against the railing when Potter ran in, moving cautiously, ever so carefully to keep the raptors’ attention while the kid got away. Potter edged his way back to the gate, diving for it in the nick of time, managing to get safely behind it just as the raptors lunged.

Sirius closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, slowly loosening his grip. When he felt ready to do business, he walked to the side and down. He saw Potter talking to the kid, probably something reprimanding but comforting because that was just the kind of person he was. Well. Sirius assumed. He’d just run into a cage with four human-eating creatures to save someone he didn’t know, so that assumption was probably safe.

Of course then Sirius had to go and say, “You just saved us a whole lot of money there, Potter,” as a greeting instead of something that wouldn’t make him sound like a massive arsehole. Like, “That was stupidly brave of you,” or “That was impressive as fuck,” or even a simple “Hello”. Sirius wanted to slap himself.

Potter stared at him for a moment, as if trying to discern if Sirius had actually said those words, eventually coming to the unfortunate conclusion that yes, he did. Potter grabbed his arm and hauled him away. Sirius spared a thought of remorse for his suit jacket-- he’d just seen the guy throwing dead rats, no way in hell was he keeping it now. “What is wrong with you?” he asked when they were a decent distance away. “He almost died, he doesn’t need to hear that you only think of him as a bunch of numbers.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t thinking of him as numbers, it’s just a fact that if someone gets eaten by one of our attractions, it would be expensive.”

Potter glared at him. Great job, Black. Really, excellent.

Sirius pushed through the awkwardness and told Potter why he was there. He agreed to check out the enclosure and the Indominus herself, but then again it’s not like he was ever going to say no.

Potter ‘call me James,’ upon realising she was alone in there, said that it wasn’t healthy for her to never have socialized, but when told the story of her sibling, replied that she probably needed to be put down. Sirius gawped at him. “Excuse me?”

“Look, I get that this animal cost a lot of money to build and you’ve started pre-selling tickets for this, and that this will lose you millions of dollars. I get that.” He was looking Sirius straight in the eye, sincere in a way that Sirius hadn’t been expecting given the bad first impression (that he clearly hadn’t forgotten about). “But it’s not worth it.”

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest, wanting to glare, but not wanting to antagonise him quite yet. “How, exactly, is this not worth it?”

“What DNA is she made of?”

“That’s classified,” Sirius said automatically. It was, all of their assets’ biological information was classified, but this one especially because she hadn’t been revealed yet. He had the information somewhere, but he hadn’t looked at it in depth, nor had he been given clearance by Doctor Wu to share it with James. He knew the big ones, of course, but even that was classified.

He looked frustrated, but accepted the denial easily enough. “Well, whatever she’s made of, I highly doubt they are a purely isolationist creature. The fact that she killed and ate her sister-- her only company-- when there was other food available means she’s unstable at best and at worst…” James looked out the viewing window again, though the Indominus was no longer in sight. “She looks like more than one species of carnivore. They created a killing machine and sooner or later she’s going to do her job.” With that, they started leaving the observation room and heading to Sirius’s car, some white economic thing he hated. He’d had to park further away than the vehicles around them because it was practically useless in this terrain. Whatever, it wasn’t his pick but Reg insisted it was good for his image. Sirius of course insisted that it would be better for his image if he had a car that was actually functional. It was an argument that went nowhere but they had often.

Sirius raised an eyebrow as they walked down the stairs while his mind whirred with this information. “I thought your type was all ‘save the dinosaurs, let them live their lives’?”

James snorted. “Nothing here is natural, her,” he pointed back to the enclosure vaguely, “least of all. If you create a monster, you’re responsible for it. I’ve been to the T-rex’s pen, and you know what? These walls look less secure even though she looks more dangerous.”

“We were expecting her to be smaller,” Sirius said. They’d estimated the size and built the enclosure ahead of time so that they wouldn’t have to wait for her to be fully grown before they could even start her permanent pen.

“And in the years she was growing you didn’t think ‘huh she’s getting bigger’?”

“It didn’t take her long to reach maturity.” There hadn’t been time, that’s why the construction was happening now.

James stopped to stare at him. Sirius wished he could read minds because that face was giving nothing away. “Take some pictures, kill her, write it off as an expensive mistake, and go with something smaller next time.”

Before Sirius had a chance to reply, his phone started ringing. It was Reg, so he told James that he needed to take the call. “What’s up?”

“The Indominus guard just called and said that she got out of the cage, where are you?”

Sirius frowned. “What? That’s not possible we just saw her, everything was fine.”

James was frowning now too. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

Sirius shrugged helplessly as Regulus continued. “The heat scan was doing its hourly check and nothing was in there. We’re looking up her tracker now.”

He moved the bottom half of the phone away from his face. “He says the Indominus isn’t in her pen.” He pulled the phone back up. “Reg that’s impossible, I’m telling you, we just saw h--” He froze as someone screamed, high and terrified, followed by the sound of the main gate opening. “Oh shit,” he breathed.

“Fuck Sirius get out of there!” Somehow, Sirius had the presence of mind to hang up before James grabbed his arm and started running them to Sirius's car. As they were getting inside, they heard the crash of the wall giving and a roar that would have been earsplitting if they were closer.

“So er, not to gloat,” James started after a minute or two of driving, “but I fucking told you so.”

Sirius spared him a glare. “It’s not like they asked my opinion before mixing a t-rex and raptor, James.”

“Shit,” James swallowed, glancing at the makeshift road behind them. “I thought that was classified?” he asked in a tone that said he was deliberately trying to make light of the situation.

“Yeah, and what exactly are you going to do with that information? I’m not going to get in trouble for telling you what she‘s made of when we have two dead people and a carnivorous asset on the loose.”

James sighed, leaning back into the seat. “Yeah that’s- true enough.”

~~~

Sirius wasn’t usually wrong about first impressions, and James was no exception. The only problem of their first meeting was Sirius acting like a bit of a dick, and it wasn’t on James for his reaction to that. It was true, however, that spending a couple days together trying to rescue Reg and running from dinosaurs and shooting the occasional one changed things between them.

Therefore it wasn’t a surprise that once they were evacuated from the island and in a hotel for the night, James said yes when Sirius invited him up to his room. Once the door was shut, Sirius put a hand on the side of his face and drew him in for a kiss. They were both dirty and covered in grime because they hadn’t had a chance to shower yet, but all Sirius could think was that he wanted more, wanted this all the time. James groaned when Sirius wound his fingers through his hair, and they didn’t stop.

Sirius was mostly asleep when he felt the bed tilt. He peeked his eyes open and saw James getting dressed in the light from the city that filtered through the curtains. “Where’re you goin’?” he asked, his words rolling together.

James paused, looking back at him guiltily. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” was all he said.

Sirius took in his appearance and scoffed once it clicked in his sleep-addled mind. “Thought we were a bit old for the one-night stand bullshit, but whatever.” He rolled over. He was too tired to deal with this, and it had been a draining couple of days, both physically and emotionally.

“Sirius… I’ve been someone’s belated rebellious phase before. I’m not looking to do that again.”

“Good, cause I’m not looking to screw you over.” With a sigh, Sirius rolled back over and half-sat up. “In case it wasn’t clear, James, I want to date you. You’re not some dirty little secret I’ll bring around for the holidays to make my parents angry.” He flumped back on the bed. “But if you want to leave, leave.”

~~~

James whispered in Sirius’s ear as his cousins walked away. “That’s not how we got together.”

“It’s more romantic.”

“I would never have kissed you in the middle of a fight where there were flying dinosaurs all around.”

“Maybe you should have, so I wouldn’t have to lie.”

“Why do you have to lie?”

“It’s more romantic,” he repeated. “Besides, do you really want to tell everyone we were having a one-night stand that turned into something more?”

James rolled his eyes. “That’s not what happened either.”

“It’s what they’ll hear,” Sirius argued. He kissed James’s cheek. “If they ask, just make something up. Or, hell, tell them the truth, they probably won’t believe you now.”

James snorted. “Gee thanks.”

Sirius smirked against him. “Love you.”

He sighed. “Love you too, you liar.”

[riga789]

Won’t you dance with me — Chapter 6

Summary: Asking Maya to the school dance should not be this difficult.

(Set in the same timeline as, and a sequel to, my earlier fic Sanctuary)

Read on ao3 | ff.net

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5

Shawn comes home to find — to his utter astonishment — Katy listening at Maya’s door.

“We’re allowed to do that??”

“No!” But Katy doesn’t move from where her ear is pressed against the door panel. “Now shhh! Lucas just arrived at her window a couple of minutes ago, I think he’s going to ask her to the dance.”

Being a parent is so confusing, Shawn thinks as he puts his ear to the door too. But at least his evening with four dumb boys doesn’t seem to be a complete waste. The cowboy actually works fast when prodded.

They both listen; they can hear Maya’s voice....

*****************

When Maya finds the sheet of paper — it fell out of one of her several sketchpads, which is why she didn’t see it before; she hasn’t opened this particular sketchpad this week until now — she doesn’t know whether to laugh or to scream in exasperation.

It’s the funniest, most ridiculous thing she’s ever seen. And she’s surprised that after all these years of knowing Lucas, she had no idea that he was this bad at drawing. It looks like something made by a five-year-old.

It’s also downright frustrating. Lucas had asked her to the dance after all, and she had no idea.

Then again, she has no idea what to make of his behaviour this past week either. She’s found him snooping around through her things several times, looking shifty, and disappearing whenever he spotted her. During the evenings, when the group does their homework together at Topanga’s, he’s asked to borrow several of her textbooks, claiming he has forgotten his own at home or in his school locker.

Since all of this is extremely unlike Lucas, it has obviously made her suspicious. But the couple of times she’s tried to confront him about it, he has laughed it off, changed the subject, and actually tried to distract her once with a Danish. And earlier this evening, after her latest attempt, he’d run off home halfway on some flimsy excuse about his mamma needing his help.

Only now that she holds the evidence in her hand does she realise this is what he must have been looking for. Obviously, after asking someone else to go with him, Lucas hadn’t wanted her to see his dance ask and was trying to get it back without letting her know about it.

Maya doesn’t know what to think. Had he become tired of waiting for her to find the paper, and decided to go with someone else instead? Or maybe he’d only asked her as a backup? And when the girl he actually wanted to go with said yes, he’d tried to get the dance ask back before Maya saw it? But then, why would he put in so much effort into this ask? Or maybe this is no effort for him at all, just scribbles that he knows will make a girl laugh?

Or — and Maya can’t believe she’s even considering this, since she doesn’t think Lucas might be that dumb, though recent behaviour certainly indicates otherwise — had he accidentally put the dance ask in the wrong girl’s locker?

All these questions make her want to hunt him down and just shake the answers out of him.

She’s considering doing just that when a sudden noise from her window makes her jump. She looks up just as Lucas, with one leg stuck on the ledge of her window, trips and lands sprawled on her bedroom floor by the bed.

Maya can’t help it. She lets out a loud, explosive snort of laughter. It becomes worse when he scowls at her, and she has to cover her mouth to try and stifle her guffaws.

He frowns as he gets to his feet, but his expression quickly softens, and for a second, he gives her that warm, indulgent look that he seems to reserve exclusively for her. Then he spots the sheet of paper in her hand, and nervousness fills his face.

Maya stops laughing too. “Is this what you were looking for all those times you were snooping around in my locker and my backpack, and even through my art supplies?” She holds up the sheet.

Lucas rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I wanted to ask you to the dance, and I wanted it to be funny and special. But I thought you said yes to going with Charlie, so I tried to get it back.”

“What on earth made your cowboy brain think I was going with Charlie?” she demands.

“I overheard him ask you!” he says defensively. “Or, well, that’s what I thought I heard... And then I thought you said yes.”

She hides her face in her hands and lets out a muted scream of pure aggravation. “Why would I want to go with Charlie? Besides, he likes Brenda!”

“I didn’t know that, okay! I thought—  you two—  you’ve been spending a lot of time with him recently.”

“We spent at best a few hours together last week to work on the English assignment!”

It clicks then, when Lucas grimaces and refuses to meet her eye.

“Don’t tell me you were jealous!”

He scowls. “I’m not.”

“Oh my god, you’re jealous!”

He usually takes her teasing in stride, even teases back, but now he seems to be short on patience as well. “Will you go to the dance with me or not??” he half yells.

“Really Huckleberry? You’re asking me now? After you’ve asked someone else? Do you learn nothing at all?”

“No, that’s okay,” Lucas assures her hastily. “Brenda and I sorted it out, she’s going with Charlie.”

“You asked Brenda?” Maya sputters on a laugh. “No wonder he was so pissed off!”

“I was going to ask you.” He takes a step closer. “Last week. The day I got you the taco. I was going to give it to you instead of flowers. But Charlie was with you, being all Charlie Gardner, and staring into your eyes sappily, and going on about how he cared more about the girl than the ask, blah blah.” He rolls his eyes. “And he never mentioned Brenda, or any other girl. What’s a guy supposed to think? And then, you said yes!”

“I said ‘yes, that works’, not ‘yes, I’ll go with you’!” She gives him a stern look, but she can’t help the way her lips twitch trying not to smile at the look of disgust on Lucas’s face. “It may not have had flowers or balloons or a disco ball or all of the above, but it was still a classic Charlie Gardner dance ask. The kind Riley loves. And Brenda apparently,” she adds.

“Oh no, Brenda’s was worse. He made her a frickin’ craft project, with petals to write out his ask on a banner.”

“Yikes.” Maya winces. “Way to go overboard, Charlie. But you!” She rounds on him. “You actually thought I’d go for that gooey sap-fest?”

“How was I to know?” he mutters darkly.

“Because you know me!” she retorts, irritated. “Just like I know you. I guessed correctly that you might ask me to the dance with a taco instead of flowers, Ranger Rick, because that’s the just the kind of dumb, dorky thing you’d do. Of course, that was before you shot your own dance ask in the foot.”

He ignores the mangled metaphor — one she chose, no doubt, because of its Wild West overtones — and the fact that she called him dumb, and grabs her hand. “I still want you to go with me.”

She gives him a stony glance.

“I don’t have a taco, but you’re holding the rest of my ask.”

Maya looks down at the sketchbook paper again. There’s a stick figure cowboy on a horse, which is supposed to represent Lucas, holding what looks like a giant red inside out, blown away umbrella in the direction of a stick figure girl with big blonde hair, obviously meant to be Maya. There’s a speech bubble at the top of the page, pointing to the cowboy, proclaiming “Wanna giddy-up with me to the jamboree?” in big letters.

She tries not to roll her eyes (poetry is obviously not his strong suit either, considering the lengths he’s gone to make that rhyme), tries to smother the grin that’s threatening to break free. And fails.

Lucas sees her face, and sighs and ducks his head. “Go on, I know you’re dying to tell me what you think.” But he’s trying to hide his own smile.

“Well, stick-figure-Lucas’s horse looks more like a dog, and stick-figure-Maya’s hair is bigger than the rest of her body.”

He grimaces. “Yeah, I can draw still life and stuff, but I’m no good at human or animal figures.”

“Nooo kidding.” But there’s nothing more than teasing laughter in her tone. “It also took me a minute to understand that stick-figure-Maya is holding a paintbrush, not a broom.”

He snorts at that, and sidles closer. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. Why are you giving me an inside out umbrella, Huckleberry?”

“That’s not an umbrella, that’s a flower!”

“It’s bigger than you and me!”

“It does not look like an umbrella,” he insists.

*****************

Outside Maya’s room, Katy and Shawn — an ear each still pressed to their daughter’s bedroom door — exchange glances as the teenage couple inside begins to bicker.

Shawn rubs a hand over his face. “He’s supposed to be asking her to the dance.”

“He just did.”

“Isn’t she going to say yes?”

“Probably.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I actually feel sorry for the cowboy.”

“Shhhh!” Katy flaps her hand at him. “Listen!”

“.... Why is it so quiet?”

*****************

Lucas isn’t really sure what happened, but at that moment, he couldn’t care less. One second he and Maya are arguing about his silly drawing, the next second, she’s jerked him down by his shirt collar and pressed her lips to his.

His heart stops beating for a second as his mind scrambles to make sense of what’s happening: Maya is kissing him.

Then he instinctively responds, one hand going around her to pull her close while he buries the other in her hair, and kisses her back. And it’s like—  it’s like—  it feels as if the billions of stars that were in the sky the night he almost kissed Maya by the campfire in Texas are now exploding under his skin.

Maya seems to melt against him with a sigh, which sends a surge of smug pride shooting through him. But it also makes his knees go wobbly, and he staggers backwards with her until his back hits the wall to better support both of them.

It takes him a full minute to get his bearings when they finally break the kiss, and he blinks to clear his head from the Maya+kiss-induced haze. He’s devoutly thankful he hasn’t pulled a Farkle and simply slid to the floor in a dead faint. Maya would have never let him live that down.

She’s still standing in the circle of his arms, looking as dazed as he feels. Her cheeks are pink.

“Okay.”

“What?” he says, rather stupidly, still reeling.

“I’ll go with you.”

“Where?” he asks, bewildered.

She raps her knuckles on his nose. “To the dance, Hopalong! Keep up!”

He thinks if he grins any wider, it’ll split his face.

“By the way, Huckleberry, you owe me a taco!”

*****************

“But—  but—  but—” Shawn sputters as Katy drags him away from Maya’s door, and into the kitchen. “Shouldn’t we interrupt them and supervise, or something?”

“It’s been a long time coming. Let her kiss the boy in peace.” There’s an all too knowing gleam in Katy’s eye. “You big softie. You think I don’t know where you went earlier tonight? I know what you did!”

“What? What are you talking about?” He tries to look innocent. And fails.

“Nice try, honey. She really, really likes him.” Katy hugs Shawn tight, smiling up at him as his arms go around her. “And Lucas is stupidly in love with her, even if he doesn’t know it yet. Teenage love, but love all the same. He’s good for our Maya. And you know that too, which is why you made that happen!”

“I didn’t mean to do that!” Shawn says, appalled. “He was just supposed to ask her to the dance! There isn’t supposed to be any kissing!”

“The way they’ve been eyeing each other, let’s be thankful it’s just kissing,” Katy says fervently, then sighs. “We’re going to have to have the talk with Maya soon.”

Shawn is so utterly and completely horrified by that thought that the only thing he can manage is a very Cory-like “Aaarrgh!”

Chapter 7

Updates have been a bit slow because I've caught up with all my pre-written material, and I'm now writing the new chapters from scratch. Thank you all for sticking with the story, and for the likes, reblogs and comments!

[empress-imperia]

CHP VI: IN WHICH FINNICK GETS A NEW RIDE

"... Are you sure?"

Bruce Wood listened to the speaker on the other end of the call as he chewed loudly on some wood flavored gum. "Four vehicles..." He started to write down the information on the speaker's recommendation. "Two headed to the Canal District... the other two crossed the bridge... a van with two canines on it... driven by a fennec fox wearing a black and red t-shirt... and a Hopps farm truck, driven by three rabbits, two old, one really old... you're sure they're all heading for the same place?" The speaker raised their voice. "Hey, watch it! Remember who's in charge here! So if they're all heading for where you think the money is hidden, then the two cars going by road would have to pass through the skinny end of Deerbrooke County."

The wide woodchuck tapped a red highlighter on the map before him. On the map, Deerbrooke looked like a fallen bottle, with the narrow neck end located right between Bunnyburrow and the county where Zootopia lay. Bruce had already drawn a red line down the quickest road from A to B.

"Don't worry, if they show up we'll take care of it." Bruce said. "I'll keep you posted... Bye." He hung up.

The longer he stared at the map, his eyes focusing on the black mark that was Bunnyburrow, the wider his grin grew. This might just be the break the Zootopia Freedom Party needed to get off the ground. If they managed to get the money's exact location from the chomper or the bunnies, then they wouldn't have to operate from a rickety abandoned farmhouse in Podunk anymore. They could move their headquarters to a nicer place closer to Zootopia, or more preferably in it. They could attract more followers and finally make a difference in that city.

He went to the bathroom of the motel room that should have been fumigated decades ago, and dialed the number for the other two members of the group, who should still be in the supposed dining room of their headquarters playing canasta. According to the map, the town he was currently in, Tall Oaks, would be the second town the two vehicles would pass through if they wished to get to Bunnyburrow in the fastest time. With a little help from his friend in the city, Bruce might just be able to pull this off.

Right now, the best the Zootopia Freedom Party could do was to accumulate leaflets and scout for potential, likeminded recruits. With six million and five hundred thousand dollars and possibly more, there was no limit to what they were capable of.

"Mr. Big sent us. We need to use his boat." Raymond said the second they found Melvin the Stoat at the end of the dock where the boat was being kept. It was short and to the point, for time was of the essence.

Melvin, a burly little mammal in a baggy sweater and stained cap, eyed the two polar bears. "Names?"

"I'm Raymond and this is Kevin."

Melvin relaxed. "Koslov called and told me to expect you. Wait here while I get the boat ready for boarding." He started to walk quickly down the dock, but stopped and turned. "You do know how to drive this boat, don't you?"

"My family's been into boats for five generations, and I've transported goods for the boss before." Kevin said.

Melvin looked at the boat, then back at the bears. "Good enough. Did they tell you what sort of boat this is?"

The bears looked at the boat. It was your typical three deck luxury yacht, with a pure white hull and glossy black windows. Bigger than most yachts in the canals, but also small enough to build up a fair amount of speed in open water. It's name was the Marlon Brando, and it was their best chance of getting to Bunnyburrow first.

"Just your run of the mill luxury yacht, right?" Kevin asked.

"If you can spare a few minutes, I'll explain..." Melvin trailed off at the sound of screeching tires. Raymond and Kevin spun round, and grimaced equally when they saw the Oryx-Antlersons' car come to a halt on the road that stretched parallel to the docks. Bucky and Pronk leapt out, and without shutting the doors sprinted over.

"Hey! Do you work here? Is there a boat for hire?!" Bucky spouted off the round of questions breathlessly, while Pronk realised they'd left their car vulnerable and rushed back to lock it.

"Yes and no." Melvin said, expertly putting on the facade of an honest sailor. "Not in this part of the docks, anyway. You'll have to talk to Boris. He's a boar down at the other end. He might have something you could use."

Bucky pointed at the yacht. "What about that? D'you know who owns that ferry?"

"Yacht, sir. It's called a yacht." Melvin said evenly. "And it belongs to the employer of these two gentlemen. They've just been given permission to use it for the day."

Pronk had returned at that moment. "Is that true? Are they using that big fancy thing?"

"Yep, and like I said, it's called a yacht. Now if you'll excuse me I need to make sure the yacht is at full fuel."

As Melvin left, Raymond folded his arms with a smirk. "That's right. We're using the big fancy speedy thing. So run off and go find a dinghy to paddle with."

Bucky glared. "Know this, beefcake. It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings!"

"Then you'd better keep your pointy little ears open." Kevin said. "Now push off and shut up."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" Pronk's roar of outrage could be heard across the docks.

"You heard me." Kevin replied smugly. "Shut. U-"

"NO-ONE TELLS HIM TO SHUT UP EXCEPT FOR ME SO SHUT UP!"

"YEAH, VICE VERSA SO SHUT UP!" Bucky hollered at equal volume.

Raymond stepped forward. "Watch it, bread sti-"

"SHUT UP!"

"YEAH, SHUT UP!"

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!"

"SHUT UP YOU BIG PALOOKA!"

"You..."

"SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPAHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP..." The tremendous duet of the two ballistic belters was too much for the two polar bears. Ears ringing and hearts pounding, they retreated under the pretense of asking Melvin if the boat was ready for sailing. By the time they reached the stoat, the screaming had stopped and the Oryx-Antlersons were returning to their car, high fiving each other once they reached it.

Raymond wondered if he should call Mr. Big about possibly recruiting them once this was over. Any rivals they needed to intimidate in future wouldn't last two minutes.

Judy took a long, hard look at the interior of the police car engine before sighing and leaping to grab the hood, allowing her weight to pull it shut. "Un-cotton picking-believable."

"What's wrong? Your car will still run, and don't cars get wrecked in collisions all the time?" Bonnie said, deliberately leaving out that it was their farm truck that caused said collision in the first place.

Judy's mouth was very small, and her ears were pointing straight down. "In case you haven't noticed, mother, this is a police car. It is specially designed to withstand more damage than a normal car." Judy strode over to the Hopps truck, where Pop-Pop was still sitting in the driver's seat and shooting dirty looks at the pine tree that Nick was hiding behind. He was utilising a water bottle to clean out the awkwardly placed coffee stain as best as he could. Judy popped open the hood of the truck, unleashing a cloud of white smoke. "So, mother dearest... do you have any idea how lucky you are that the truck was the only thing that was totaled?!"

Bonnie cringed at the look of sheer outrage and disbelief on her daughter's face. She lifted her leg up a little and rolled her ankle. "Lucky rabbit's feet, I suppose."

"Har, har, mom."

Bonnie put a paw on Judy's vested shoulder. "Honestly, we are so sorry about this, sweetheart."

Judy sighed again. "At least you guys aren't hurt."

Bonnie glanced at Nick's pine tree, where the only part of him sticking out was his bushy red and brown tail. "Speaking of guys... that coffee hadn't been hot when he spilled it on his little boy parts was it?"

"Mom!" Judy gasped, glancing at the tree herself to see if Nick had heard. The bushy red and brown tail had gone very still. "Oh crackers, he heard."

Bonnie cleared her throat. "I suppose you'll be wanting an explanation for your family's behavior."

Judy crossed her arms. "As officers of the law, we'll have to charge you with reckless driving, regardless of relation. I hope you have a darned good reason for this." "As a matter of fact, I do." Bonnie proceeded to jerk her thumb at her approaching husband. He'd just finished spending a penny behind a bush on the other side of the road "But I'm going to let him explain. Stu?"

Stu stopped in the middle of pulling up his overall straps. He looked nervously to his daughter. "Do I have to, dear?"

Bonnie and Judy sported equally steely gazes. "Yes, dear. Unless you want your own daughter to book you for withholding information."

By the time Stu had finished telling Judy everything the late Jerry Mousekewitz had told him, Nick had run out of bottled water and joined them.

"Nick, why are your pants completely soaked?" Judy asked bluntly.

Nick scowled. "So I won't have to constantly explain that I did not pee my pants because I didn't, to quote you, my dear Carrots, 'take it easy with the coffee.'"

Speaking of coffee, the pants still smelled of it.

"Never mind that!" Judy snapped, her ears turning pink at the tips. "Did you hear what my father just told me?!"

Bonnie and Stu's shoulders slumped. They knew Judy wouldn't take it well. Pop-Pop kept sulking in the truck.

"I did, one hundred percent." Nick said. "Ninety-five percent, actually. What was that about my buddy attacking your Pop-Pop with a snowball?"

"Nick! That! Is not! Important!" Judy was rigid as a board on fire. "How could you lie to me about this, dad? Me?!"

Stu looked absolutely mortified.

"Bogo needs to know about this. Nick, call him right now while I have a few more words with my lovely parents." By this point, Judy had become sinisterly calm.

Nick did not like the look on her face. "Shall... I'll just call him over there, shall I?"

"Fine, just make sure you tell him everything!"

Nick started walking down the road, and didn't stop until he was a red and blue speck on the concrete and their rabbits ears couldn't hear the ensuing phone call, especially once Judy exploded.

Finnick was fifteen miles from Zootopia when his luck ran out.

Being one of the smallest mammals in the city that was too big to live in Little Rodentia, his view of the road tended to be partially obscured by the dashboard, so he didn't see the fallen tree until it was too late.

One minute he was gunning it at fifty miles an hour, the next he hit the thick trunk head on. His entire body jerked forward, the seatbelt keeping him from completely leaving the seat. Leafy branches slapped the windshield as the trunk rolled slightly, and white smoke began pouring out from beneath the hood.

Finnick quickly got over the shock and proceeded to explode into a myriad of French curses inspired by the rap music he'd been listening to before the crash. The curses faded as he heard the sound of shattering glass coming from the back of the van. It was a cluster of wet crashes, like someone was dropping an armful of full wine bottles one by one. The melted jumbo pop jars, Finnick realised with a sinking feeling, squeezing the steering wheel and wincing with each shatter.

When all was quiet, Finnick undid his seatbelt and climbed out of his car. He felt no pain when he leapt to the hard ground, confirming that he'd escaped without injury. His relief was short lived as he rushed to the back of the van and saw red liquid dripping from beneath the doors like fake blood in a horror movie. Letting out one last French curse, he opened one of the doors.

Just as he expected, the big glass jars had not been so lucky. Glass shards poured out the van along with their entire red liquid contents. It was the Great Flood of Noah all over again, this time in the form of strawberry flavoured melted ice. Finnick watched silently as two hundred bucks worth of juice emptied out onto the road along with sixty bucks worth of glass.

Finnick did the only thing he could do in this situation.

He raised his fists, tilted his face to the sky, and said the M word.

Very, very, very loudly.

Then he looked inside the smoking engine and saw there was nothing he could do. Calling for help would take too long. It could even lead to his arrest if the mess of glass and juice aroused their suspicion. There was no way he was losing the money to that crotchety old jerk.

So that left one option.

Internally screaming all the way, Finnick climbed into the dripping, soaking, sticky van. He came out holding something he hadn't used since the Savanna Park hustles.

It was covered in juice. It was coloured pink and had rainbow tassels dangling from the handles. But the plastic tricycle was all he had. At least until he got to the next town and acquired another vehicle.

Hoping to all the gods in the animal kingdom that no-one he knew saw him, he wiped the tricycle with his gym towel and started trundling down the road.

He felt silly. He felt really silly. Please, God, don't let anyone see him.

Nick only stopped walking when he couldn't hear Judy's Armageddon-level ranting. He felt very sorry for the rabbit's parents, even if they did bring it on themselves for lying to her.

He dialed Bogo's number and waited. The phone rang four times before Buffalo Butt picked up, and he sounded either ticked beyond all reason or undergoing immense suffering. Maybe both.

"What?" The Chief asked sharply.

"Sir, you're either going to love or hate this.' Nick paused. "Maybe both."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know how that mouse, the aptly named Jerry Mousekewitz, kicked the bucket earlier this morning?"

"Get to the point or shut your mouth!"

Nick got to the point. His nose wrinkled as it detected the strong scent of coffee still emanating from his pants.

"... We didn't find out about the race until we bumped into Clawhauser, who saw two of them pass him. We've driven a little out the city in the hopes of catching one of them before they got too far, and that was when we found the Hopps truck on the side of the road with a busted tire. Seems they trying to get at least one or two license plates before going to us." The lie, as usual, came easily. It wasn't entirely a lie, but the least he could do for Judy's family was to twist the truth just enough to get her parents a lighter sentence. There was nothing he could do about the inevitable reckless driving charges, but he could still save them from charges of withholding information. "Sir, I can tell you're about to flip your horns but this isn't bad news. We know where the heist money is, and we might still have a chance to get it back. If you let us go right now, we can still find the Blue Goliath before the others do."

He could almost hear the chief grinding his teeth.

"This is insane. I don't mean sending you two out the city. This was supposed to be a simple investigation into a casino heist, not a race across two states! It's like the animal world has gone mad!"

"No, just you." Nick quipped.

"Wilde, I am not in the mood for... what's that screeching?"

Nick's ears went flat. Judy's shouting had increased in volume while he was explaining what Stu Hopps had just told them. "... Duck."

"Duck?" Bogo stopped sounding angry for a few seconds.

"Yes. A duck."

"There are no birds in Zootopia."

"Immigration, am I right?"

"Never mind the duck, or whatever that really was. I don't like the idea of you two taking your police car out of the city, but the loot of three casinos is on the line here and we have to get it back. So fine. You have my authorization to join the chase, but the Blue Goliath is your top priority. Do not engage the others unless you have to. We will deal with them once we have the money back in safe hands."

"Hooves or paws?"

"WILDE, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

Nick jerked his head from the phone. "Wow, that actually hurt! Is everything okay on your end, chief?"

"... Nothing I can't handle. Don't bother coming back here for more resources, there's no time for that."

Nick put a smirk back on his face. "Speaking of resources, what's the big idea lending Clawhauser a Ferrari in the first place while me and Judy get lemons? We're the best in the force!"

"Yes, but he's the cutest in the force." Bogo retorted.

Nick's smirk widened. "The cutest, huh? I knew it."

"... Goodbye, fox."

[ohdizzy]

Orange You Sweet

Title: Orange You Sweet Pairing: Yoongi/Jimin Rating: PG-13 Genre: Witch AU, Fantasy, Romance, Crack, Dramedy, Fluff Wordcount: 2,700+  Chapter: 1/4 

Summary:

Min Yoongi is a simple man. There are things he likes, and things he doesn’t. 

For example: Purple silk? Hate. Oranges? Love with every fibre of his body. Accidental potion drinking? Horrible, terrible, 10/10 would not recommend.

Cute boys who try to steal your oranges, oh—and happen to be a fucking witch? Well, that’s a little more complicated.

Read at: ao3 or under the cut! 

Time: Saturday, 11.47pm

Location: Somewhere approximately 328ft above Gangnam, Seoul

There aren’t many things Park Jimin is afraid of.

Maybe it boils down to the fact that despite being slender in stature and somewhat vertically disadvantaged, Jimin is a goddamn fucking powerful witch—powerful to the point where he’s confident he could take down a starved vampire, a horny werewolf, and maybe even a minor demon in one go. With his eyes closed. And his dominant hand tied behind his back.

(And he’s not boasting, no matter what Jeongguk says. It’s not fucking showing off, either. It’s something called telling the truth and maybe Jeongguk would be aware of that if he’d tried telling the truth for once in his goddamn life, thank you very much.)

Regardless of the reason why, Park Jimin isn’t afraid of many things. In fact, there’s only one thing he’s really scared of—heights.

It probably comes down to the fact that Jimin is in an environment where he isn’t in control and therefore completely out of his fucking element. The dizziness Jimin feels when he looks down from his broomstick whenever he’s forced to fly, coupled with a crippling sense of fear and impending doom, doesn’t really help, either.

So of course it makes sense that on the one day Jimin is forced to fucking fly, the wind also happens to be fucking blowing like it’s nobody’s goddamn business, as he treks across two fucking provinces to get to some client that lives in the goddamn middle of nowhere.  

And of course the one day Jimin is forced to face his fear of flying is the day he steps on his stupid familiar’s tail—nevermind the fact that Jeongguk was the one who had been lurking around Jimin’s feet the entire time, hissing at his client in a sad, pathetic little attempt to assert his feline dominance. But as always, it’s Jimin’s fuckin’ fault and now he has to put up with Jeongguk’s continuous attempts to kill Jimin every time he wraps his fucking tail around Jimin’s eyes, obscuring his vision for several heart stopping moments.

Of-fucking-course.

“For the last fucking time,” Jimin growls, after he’s gathered enough courage to bring a shaking hand up in an attempt to rip Jeongguk’s tail off his face. “Fucking stop before I throw you back into the pits of hell where you belong. Literally.”

Jimin fucking hates riding broomsticks.

Not only does the handle of the broom give Jimin a wedgie so intense he’s forced to waddle around for the next couple of days, but there’s just so much more pazazz when he uses portals to arrive in front of his clients in a cloud of red smoke, so that he can actually fucking stand upright. Oh, and let’s not forget his fucking fear of heights, either.

Jeongguk doesn’t really seem to give a shit, snickering meanly at the poorly concealed panic in Jimin’s voice. Fucker.

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for stepping on my tail,” Jeongguk sniffs from where he’s comfortably perched on Jimin’s shoulder. “You didn’t even say sorry to me. Rude.”

Most of the time, Jimin would indulge him, since he’s always been annoyingly soft on his familiar. It’s because the cat aspect of him is cute—jet black with huge, expressive blue eyes, it’s kind of hard not to fall in love with Jeongguk’s exterior, even if he’s a mean-spirited minor demon bound and chained to the cat’s body to serve Jimin for eternity. But, you know. Details.

“You fucking goddamn motherfuckin’ shit ass punk, listen here,” Jimin snarls over the wind. “When we get home, I am going to magick you into a fucking frog and I’m not gonna turn you back for an entire day. How’s that fucking sound, huh?”

Jimin is bringing out the big guns and fighting dirty because he’s tired and pissed (and fucking scared) and Jeongguk being an obnoxious little fucker is really messing with Jimin’s juju. Jimin scoffs at Jeongguk’s frightened hiss smugly.

Jimin silently sends up a prayer of thanks to Tupac or Jason Derulo or whichever god is listening in because seriously—if it weren’t for Jeongguk’s obscure and slightly questionable fear of frogs Jimin would probably have killed Jeongguk by now (or at least banished him into the deepest, darkest depths of hell where he fucking belongs).

That’s right, Jimin sneers meanly to Jeongguk through their telepathic link. Know your place, little froggy.

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, but Jimin can feel his thoughts—he’s imagining going home and ‘accidently’ knocking over a potion Jimin spent a month creating—and Jeongguk has another fucking thing coming if he thinks he’s gonna be getting away with that.  

“I hope you like eating flies, you little punk-ass,” Jimin says spitefully, turning to look at Jeongguk in the eye, “because I’m going to turn you into a fucking frog and I’m not going to turn you back until—”

“Jimin!” Jeongguk suddenly hisses, claws digging into Jimin’s shoulder painfully.

Jimin whips his head around just in time to see a huge flock of birds flying straight for them. His eyes widen in fear and he can distantly hear Jeongguk spitting out curses in some demon language he never bothered studying.

Did he mention he was afraid of birds as well?

He has just enough time to whisper out an oh fucking shit, before he smashes into the birds. It’s disgusting, so fucking disgusting—he can feel their grease covered wings flapping in his face, the rank smell of their feathers filling his nose, a mix of their indignant squawking and Jeongguk’s frightened yowls rattling his eardrums—before he’s suddenly falling, falling, falling from the sky, plummeting straight for the houses below.

Park Jimin isn’t afraid of many things, but when he is afraid, he’s not afraid to tell the fucking world. Or rather, show the world –

By screaming at the goddamn top of his lungs, flailing wildly, grabbing fistfuls of the air whizzing past him in some sad attempt to stop himself from falling. There’s a tiny part of him—the tiny part that isn’t addled by a mixture of fear or disgust—that’s a little embarrassed for himself.

Like, he’s fucking thrashing about in the air hysterically, his open mouth drooling uncontrollably. On top of that, the air pressure makes it harder for him to open his eyes fully. He can feel his cheek fat literally vibrating from the force of the air. Yep. Definitely not a sexy look.

“Have you fucking lost your fucking mind,” Jeongguk screams. “Use your fucking magick you goddamn useless fucking witch, what the fuck—”

Oh. Right.

Magick.

He’s a witch.

“Fuck,” Jimin tries to yell. It’s really hard to form the consonants and vowels of words when his mouth is wrenched open by the pressure of the wind, so Jeongguk screaming profanities at the top of his tiny, feline lungs is rather impressive. “I forgot I was a witch for a second!”

He grabs Jeongguk by the scruff of the neck, pulling him close and curling up into a protective ball around Jeongguk. While Jimin is a witch and has protective runes inked onto his body and probably has a higher chance of surviving the fall, Jeongguk is still technically a cat. And while he’d love to test out the theory that cats always land on four feet, Jimin feels that this is neither the time nor the place to do so.

The ground is alarmingly close to Jimin now, the houses growing bigger and bigger by the second. It’s definitely too late for a levitating spell—not that Jimin remembers what that is, anyways. What he does remember (vaguely) is a cushioning spell. Same thing, right?

“Wanchungjae—”

Jimin is cut off as he smashes headfirst into something that scratches every surface of his body. It’s surprisingly not as painful as he imagined—he thought he would’ve broken every bone in his body since he wasn’t able to complete his spell. But turns out, he’s more powerful than even he himself gave credit for, so there’s one good thing that came out of this clusterfuck. Jimin has always been a bit of an optimist.

And turns out, from what he can feel, he’s only broken two rib bones, dislocated his shoulder bone, broken his wrist and pulled just about every fucking muscle and ligament in his body.

Just kidding, what the fuck, his entire fucking body is on fire.

Jimin lets out a loud, pained groan as his shoulder pops back into place with an audible crack—at least the healing runes seem to be working. Even Jeongguk is mewling pathetically, pain throbbing through their link loud and clear.

Jimin is thinking of forcing himself to get up and work on healing himself, and somehow contacting Taehyung to come pick him up when his head bumps against something. Jimin’s head jerks up and he finds himself staring at the ripest, prettiest orange he’s ever seen in his entire life. He looks around his surroundings, nearly laughing in disbelief when he realises where he is.

He’s stuck between branches. Like, tree branches.

This is some motherfuckin’ Harry Potter shit.

What the fuck.

If Jimin wasn’t in so much fucking pain right now, he’d probably be laughing himself sick with the goddamn irony of it all.

The manic laughter threatening to bubble from his chest dies from his lips when he sees his legs.

“Fuck,” Jimin moans, staring with wide eyes at the two mangled limbs before him. “Fuck.”

Jimin is about to turn his attention to Jeongguk—who seems to be alright, save for a nasty cut on his right ear—when someone runs out of the small, two-storey apartment screaming hysterically. Jimin (and Jeongguk) nearly jumps out of his fucking skin at the goddamn sheer dog-whistle pitch and level of hysteria the person is screaming at, and he’d be kind of impressed if he wasn’t so fucking terrified.

To Jimin’s disappointment, the guy is kind of cute. If you look past the hysterical screaming and arm waving, that is. It’s always the cute ones that are fuckin’ crazy, damnit.

It doesn’t help the cute guy’s case that he’s wearing Cony the Bunny pyjamas and is aggressively brandishing a stapler at him like a fucking weapon.

“—oranges,” Mr Cony is screaming. “I’ll fucking tear you into pieces if you even think about touching my fucking babies, my pride and joy, my—”

“Can you chill for one fucking second,” Jimin yells back, despite the throbbing pain in his left rib. “I’m not stealing your goddamn oranges, Jesus fuck.”

Without even missing a beat, Mr Cony continues to scream, “Then why the fuck are you in my orange tree, huh? Answer that you fucking thief scum!”

The distraught screaming is really doing a number on Jimin. He can feel himself turning an uncomfortably bright shade of red, his eyebrows coming together to form an unibrow of discomfort. He just wants to magick himself out of the fucking tree, goddamnit, but he can’t do that, especially in front of a human—a fucking human brandishing a stapler at him out of all things. That’s like, fucking asking to get thrown in jail. And while Jimin is all about illegal proclivities, he finds himself a little hesitant breaking the law so defiantly (he likes to think that he’s a little more on the lowkey side of things).

“I can’t fucking believe you had the nerve to come into my home, steal my oranges, and then try to tell me you’re not stealing them. What the fuck?!” Mr Cony continues to shriek at a distressingly loud pitch. “And—and why the fuck are you dressed like that? What the fuck? You’re not fucking subtle at all!”

Well fuck you too, Jimin thinks sourly to himself. He had gone out of his way to dress nicely today—as he always does when he has a client—and even Jeongguk, who always had something mean to say about Jimin’s outfits had nodded grudgingly in approval, so he’s not too sure what Mr Cony’s problem is (though, judging from the pyjamas he’s wearing, Jimin assumes that his problem is his horrifyingly tragic fashion taste).

He looks down at his velvet blazer and ass hugging tailor-made dress pants. Fuck that, Jimin is fucking cute as fuck today and if Mr Cony thinks Jimin is going to sit around (or more correctly, lie mangled in an orange tree) and let himself get dissed like he’s on Unpretty Rapstar by some goof wearing the goddamn ugliest pyjamas he’s ever seen, well, he’s got another thing coming.

“Why the fuck not?” Jimin yells right back. “Let me tell you one fucking thing, Mr Cony. What I’m wearing is probably more expensive than your entire fucking closet and looks a fuckton better than your stupid pyjamas!”

Jimin feels liberated the moment he’s done yelling but it lasts for a grand total of 0.2 seconds, as Mr Cony steps forward towards Jimin, his expression downright murderous, and suddenly Jimin wonders if he should’ve kept his big mouth shut. Jimin would probably be shaking in his (expensive Gucci, holla) boots if he weren’t the tiniest bit aroused by Mr Cony’s anger. Just the teensiest bit. Angry Mr Cony is a hot Mr Cony.

Jimin can feel Jeongguk’s disbelief filtering in through their telepathic link.

Are you for fucking real? You’re turned on by Mr Cony? Jeongguk scoffs through their link and Jimin pokes Jeongguk viciously.

“My vitamin babies,” Mr Cony starts, his voice low and seething with anger, “are my fucking pride and joy, and I won’t have anyone”—he jabs threateningly in Jimin’s direction—“steal or damage them, no matter how badly dressed they are.”

Vitamin babies? Jesus fuck, Jimin is dealing with a psychopath.

“Badly dressed?” Jimin starts, disbelief dripping from his voice. “First of all—”

Unfortunately for Jimin (and fortunately for Mr Cony), he never gets to shut down Mr Cony with the ultimate slam dunk of insults because Jeongguk decides that it’s a great moment to pop his head up and speak up.

“Wow,” Jeongguk says, clearly equal parts impressed and annoyed, “he sounds like a fucking villain from Scooby Doo.”

Jimin doesn’t even bother asking him how the fuck he knows Scooby Doo—Jimin figures he has more pressing issues to worry about—namely, Jimin’s argument (that will shut Mr Cony down). He has a few impressing insults lined up and he can’t afford to waste any time or else he’ll forget them. Jimin isn’t too worried about Jeongguk talking either, because Jeongguk always remembers to apply glamours to conceal himself from humans.

Well, Jimin isn’t worried until Mr Cony’s face goes as white as a sheet, eyes widening in terror and shock. Mr Cony stumbles back a few steps, raising a shaking finger towards Jeongguk.

“Your—your fucking cat just s-spoke,” He splutters in disbelief and Jimin is going to fucking kill Jeongguk when they go home.

“Uh—”

“Why the fuck am I the only one that’s fucking freaking out,” Mr Cony screeches so loudly it surpasses a dog whistle and just transcends onto another level of sound that hasn’t yet been discovered by man. “Your fucking. Cat. Just. Spoke.”

Jimin’s head throbs. All this because he had to ride a fucking broomstick today.

“You must be more traumatised at me not stealing your oranges that you thought,” Jimin laughs nervously, glaring at Jeongguk who looks far too amused for his own good. “My cat didn’t talk, that’s fucking crazy.”

Mr Cony laughs scathingly—and a little hysterically, too. “Don’t fucking patronize me, your cat just fucking spoke.”

But he sounds a little hesitant and Jimin knows if he can somehow cast a confusion spell on Mr Cony he can successfully convince him that he didn’t hear anything.

But at that moment, Jeongguk decides to pop his head up again, a shit-eating grin gracing his features.

“But cats don’t speak,” Jeongguk says gleefully. “What the fuck have you been smoking, Mr Cony?”

God fucking damnit.

Mr Cony stumbles back, pure, unadulterated terror flitting across his features. He opens his mouth and lets out the most chilling, blood-curdling, horror movie worthy scream that lasts for an even more impressive seven seconds, before his eyes roll to the back of his head. He teeters unstably for a second before collapsing like a fucking ragdoll, passing out in the most dramatic fashion right there and then.

Jeongguk bursts out into laughter, absolutely howling with mirth.

Great.

Just fucking great.

[larrythecutelamb]

A Town Called ToonTown Ch.1

(Intro of this story is in this link: https://larrythecutelamb.tumblr.com/post/187128358667/a-town-called-toontown-intro)

Larry felt he had been walking into the dark tunnel for eternity, when in reality it was around ten minutes. He began to wonder if this tunnel really did have an end to it. There was hardly any sound, except for the odd one here and there, causing the little lamb to shutter in fear. 

Larry swallowed a lump, rubbing his hands together nervously as he kept trying to focus his way forward. A part of him wanted to turn back, but remind himself...there was nowhere else for him to go. Only forward. He had to keep going. He came all the way here to find a better life...and he was ganna do whatever it takes. Even if he had to face a monster in the dark. 

Finally his eyes caught a small glimmer of light a short distance away. At first he thought it was a star, since it was so light and small in the darkness of the tunnel. He began to move quicker....he ran towards it...every step he took it grew bigger and bigger. Until finally....he had reached to end of the tunnel. 

As soon as he ran out, there...stood before him.....ToonTown! 

“Wow!” he exclaimed, his big black eyes wondering over the view of the tall cartoonist buildings and scenery around him. 

It was just like the City...only more toon and colourful like! It looked as if something out of a fantasy! And not a human was in sight! Not one! Instead, there was Toons! So many other toons! Tall ones...small ones...fat ones...skinny ones....animal ones...human-like ones....black and white ones...colourful ones....object ones! The young toon had never seen so many different toons in all this life! 

For just a moment....he felt he was at the place where he should be. This feeling inside of him...full of hope...excitement...wonder! But most importantly...he was eager to make something of himself...and who knows? Maybe....he could make some friends. There were so many toons....perhaps someone would...like him? 

Larry began to wonder the streets, taking in every new thing he could find. Every new building, toon, object. He wanted to remember all of this...as if he were prepared to be dragged all the way back to his old unhappy home. 

He no longer felt tired due to all the excitement as he walked down a rather nice looking street with a park area across the road to some very nice looking houses all squashed together. The houses were coloured either a bright pink, red or white. Many lampposts lighting up the streets and the sounds of children playing nearby. 

This caught the Lamb’s attention as he hid behind a bush, making sure he couldn’t be seen as he stared towards a patio where four toon children were playing together. They looked around his age...three boys and one little girl. The three boys wore blue or white shirts with black shorts. The little girl looked like an actual doll. She wore a beautiful emerald green dress that matched her eyes, and her hair was light brown and covered in curls, neatly pulled back into a pony-tail. Larry couldn’t understand why...but he was so fixated on her! She looked like something out of a dream...an angel like the ones in the books! 

“She’s so...beautiful!” he whispered with awe. 

He then hid away in the bushes again, looking down at himself to make sure he wasn’t too dirty, patting off any reminiscence of dirt he could find. Even attempting to fix his woolly head. The ink marks he couldn’t do anything about...since they were apart of him. But suppose it would have to do. 

Taking a large gulp...Larry came out of the bushes and strolled his way over towards the group of children. He tried hard to look as confident as possible...and for a second there...the little girl was just lifting her head...her beautiful green eyes catch his....

When BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Larry barely had a second to react as a car almost ran him over, sending the Lamb leaping out of the way and landing onto the concrete hard, scraping his knees. 

“STAY OFF THE ROAD YOU DUMB TOON!” A harsh voice yelled at him a short distance away as the car continued to drive off, not even considering stopping to check on him. 

Larry had barely time to comprehend what was happening as the little toon girl was suddenly kneeling over him, looking very concerned and worried, “Hey! Are you okay?” 

The lamb looked up towards the girl’s face...again, almost completely in trance of her beauty, his cheeks going slightly rosy and warm, “I...I...”, he stuttered...his words were gone! Damn it! Why couldn’t be speak?! 

“Wow! That was something!” one of the boys spoke up as they rushed over to the scene, “That’s why we keep our eyes on the road before crossing it you know!” the first boy scolded the lamb, placing his hands on his hips, as if a parent telling off a child. 

Larry looked down for a moment, suddenly noticing the slightly bloody scrapes on his knees. He gently touched them, hissing slightly in pain. 

The girl suddenly frowned as she glared towards the direction of the car, “That dumb driver always tries to run us over! He’s a big jerk!” she scowled before sticking out her tongue, “Someone should teach him a lesson on driving!”

The little girl then turned his attention back onto Larry, offering him her hand, “My name’s Mary-Lou”, she introduced herself. 

Mary-Lou....that name....so pretty....

His face turned rosy again, causing Mary to spot it and giggle slightly, finding it rather cute and funny, “What’s you’re name!” 

Once Larry got off the ground, he patted himself slightly, “Uhm...marry....NO! Larry! Yeah...my name’s Larry!” 

“Larry...that’s a nice name!” Mary said politely, only for one of the boys to butt in.  

“I think it’s lame!” he huffed, looking slightly peeved at both Mary and Larry’s interaction. Jealously slowly showing itself.

Hearing this caused Larry to frown slightly as Mary frowned, “Don’t be mean Ryan!” she defended the lamb, “Mama says we should be nice to our new friends!” 

“Friend?” Larry spoke up...hearing the word. The one thing he always wanted or wanted to be...a friend. Was this really happening? For real?

Just as Mary was about to take his hand one again, Ryan continued his taunting, even stepping between the two to keep them separated, or acting like he was protecting Mary, “He is NOT our friend...look at him! He’s all dirty and covered in ink marks! He should know how to clean himself!” he pointed his finger towards the lamb’s body. 

Straight away, all of his feelings of possible acceptance from others...all the hope...and excitement of entering a new life...vanished! His mind started to recall all of those horrible memories...those awful taunts and mean words! The ones that would send him to bed crying every night! The ones that caused him to pray to God or a Star to be made into a normal lamb! 

“Stop it Ryan! He probably spilt ink down himself by accident! You did the same once! Remember?!” Mary argued, causing the boy to grumble to himself and glance away from her out of sheer embarrassment.  

But what the little girl didn’t realise was in fact these ink marks will never come off. No matter how much he tried to scrub them off or even shave his wool, they would never go away. They are just part of him. 

Larry was too upset to realise this as tears started to fill his eyes, as much as he tried to hold them back, he was failing quite badly, he could’t even look at Mary anymore. 

“Aww, are you ganna cry little lamb!” Ryan continued to mock as the other boys smirked, wanting to join in with him. 

“I bet those marks are real! He’s probably one of those toons no one wants!” 

“Yeah! Where’s your family?! Did they abandon you cos you’re so ugly!” 

Oh no! Not this again! No! Nononono! Make it stop! Make it stop!

Larry found himself frozen in place, not having the strength to defend himself as the boys were now circling him and throwing more insults as poor Mary tried to stop them, pleading and yelling at them, but they wouldn’t listen. 

“You should go live in a cave! Then no one will see you!” 

“Ewww, don’t touch me...I don’t wanna catch your disease!” 

“You’re probably not even a real toon! Just a mistake!” 

The words continued to be thrown at him. Each one a stab to his heart and mind! 

“STOP IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE! YOU’RE BEING A BUNCH OF BULLIES!” Mary yelled loudly, trying to break into the circle once again to reach Larry, but before she could make it to him, the lamb legged it. Running away as far as he could from the group of children. 

“LARRY COME BACK!” The little girl called out desperately, feeling ever so sorry for the toon. But he was long gone! 

____________________________________________________

Poor Larry! T.T he just wanted to make some friends! :( 

Hope you are enjoying this so far. I will make some more throughout the week. 

Please leave your comment and likes. Also, if you are interested in RPing, please message me. (I am ganna be out all day tomorrow)