#little bitties folks forget

[blindtaleteller]

Interesting meta, though there are a few facts about Clint and Loki's "indirect" contact prior in canon, not touched here; that add a whole other flavor that while definitely there: you're passing over in the translation of those scenes. Imma go at them by order of time, rather than relevance.

Loki was present directly after Thor's confrontation with SHIELD in T1, as was Barton: in fact, we don't know exactly how long Loki had even been there to appear as he did in that scene, but!

That's the whole scene, by the way: and watching it, we do know that: A. he didn't use the Bifrost within the camp itself, or range of it's notice at the very least to do so, and that even if he had somehow managed to hide that; B. Loki completely unseen by any of them walked straight through all of that to have that conversation with Thor: and wandered back enough of the temporary containment facility SHIELD built around Mjolnir at the time, to test picking up Mjolnir, and.. C. left in the same fashion, with no notable urgency.

The likelihood he noted Barton at least once here is not just very high given Barton's rank and importance on site making him the next highest ranking below Coulson: it's a near-impossible-to-miss set of odds.. especially with his ranking access to Thor and Mjolnir placing Clint on Loki's path in, out, and around both. This is an interesting detail for several reasons, but especially having to do with Selvig and the opener to A1, the scenes above.. and especially the post-credit scene below.

2. Avengers was was not the first time Loki likely saw Barton, at the least (as far as we know with certainty anyway, a-la #1): Loki had months of time after being collected by the Other and presented to Thanos (9 months or better: almost a year, during his torture) to observe Clint and everyone in the Dark Energy facility, at the very least: through Selvig, from the moment he was brought in.

I count this one over the above in relevance, being it's a solid thing both shown and told to us over the course of not one but three films; that not only made it into the final cut; but was also a major part of Selvig's portion of the second Thor movie's (TDW) storyline. It's doubled down on in the Dark World that this was a thing; even before you start delving into the creators' and actors' interviews for the three years prior to The Dark World's release in 2013, as they were asked about this multiple times in official AND unofficial interviews both for years.

(Another interesting bit with this knowledge, is the fact Selvig never says precisely why Loki being not present or dead is a relief to him, as the person who was connected to him during that year. This individual was clearly mentally bonded with Loki for that entire period, even prior to the first scene of Avengers 2012 [and explains further why he didn't run and responded the way he did even then]; which is stated outright in the dialogue. During the torture, during the Tesseract's re-activation, and likely came into second hand contact with at least Thanos and the Other's threat prior to Loki's re-arrival in New Mexico in 2012. Meaning: the question becomes.. was it actually Loki Selvig went crazy over and was afraid of: or was it what and who would have been hunting him and potentially Selvig down after the invasion was halted? After all and with Thor there especially; Selvig has very little reason to fear Loki at all, otherwise. Even less so with the Space Stone and Mind Stone both on lock down as far as they know at this point [Hydra being in possession of the Scepter was not rooted out until the next year, later in 2014.])

Taking this into account, along with #1; it's now literally impossible for Loki not to have known Barton's face, capabilities, and those of the surrounding team well before he landed: remember, Clint had at this point been in charge of watching over Selvig and the project .. which is why this set of lines is able to happen:

Selvig again, whose mind at this point had been established as having been infiltrated by Loki (and the Other/Scepter, or at the least with the Other as a major presence as Thano's right hand man until his death in 2014. We know this because of (again) those 3 years of interview answers, and because this is MCU direct accepted lore also stated in their official bios, as well as shown and stated repeatedly in the films by Thor and others even after TDW: and it is reflected as well, in what Loki does NOT do, during his five year rule and rebuilding of Asgard starting in 2013.

In fact Loki's off screen actions and inactions during that entire era are pretty telling too. Let's do a quick breakdown.

Space Stone (Tesseract, pre-to-1940s:) CAtFA established with it's opening scene that Asgard had the Tesseract, prior to purposely leaving it on Earth, under the protection of the Nordic family Schmidt later steals it from in Captain America: the First Avenger, in the scene above. (?1960-70?: tony & steve travel to 1970, however: the stone has clearly been there for at least a little while at that point) In the process of searching for Steve Rogers, Howard Stark (among SHIELD's founders) rediscovers the Tesseract sometime prior to : studying it and placing it in storage in New Jersey.

(2011-2012) Selvig (while mentally bonded with/controlled by Loki [likely through the Scepter and the Other: this skill is never seen again after 2012]) is offered head research position by Fury in 2011, which continues until 2012 when Loki arrives in person: at which point he remains the go-to guy for handling the Tesseract and building the portal device with human tech. (2012-2018) The Tesseract remains in Asgard's vault, without being used (to our knowledge) OR retrieved until 2018, five years into Loki's reign as King of Asgard, and King of said King's vault.

Mind Stone (The Sceptre 2011-2012:) Made into a relic of the Chitauri Empire, the Scepter is used on/given to Loki at some point during his captivity/coerced alliance (see 'Eaten alive by rabid dogs, assauled with raining fire', etc:) the Scepter is used as a mind control device, long-range communication device, staff, spear, and projectile weapon. (2015: Vision) Near the beginning of AoU (during Loki's 5 year reign,) Thor states that his presence on Earth with the Avengers at that time is fulfilling the desire to take the Scepter to Asgard for safe keeping. This is never mentioned or asked about again however, after what it, the Tesseract, and the Aether are: is revealed, and Vision is brought online. (2018: Vision) In fact, there is no attempt to retrieve the stone OR convince Vision to head to Asgard rather than stay on Earth at any time: the stone remains in his head, and Vision on Earth until the Infinity War starts in 2018.

Reality Stone (C1 & 2013:) Previously held and adapted by Darkalfheim (see to suit it's purpose of snuffing out all light in the universe; Odin's father Bor took the Reality Stone (juice, stuff.. whatever lol) from them during the war that wiped all but a single ship of dark elves (Maelkith's) from existence. Bor hid the Aether in an unknown protected place in the nine realms, where it remained hidden until 2013; when Jane Foster found and was 'infected' by it: carrying it to Earth, and then Asgard. Malekith's ability to sense the Aether led him back into war with an unprepared Asgard, resulting in the immediate destruction of most of their defenses, and Asgard raising their shields on the Capital to keep the elves from reclaiming the Aether inside Jane. However, Malekith planned and charged Algrim with infiltrating Asgard by getting captured as a Marauder with the intent of bringing down Asgard's shields: which was successful. Once inside, Malekith sought out the Aether; found, fought and then assisted in the death of Frigga in his attempt to get a hold of Jane: but was forced to retreat immediately after Frigga's death instead, due to catching lightning to the face. Afterwards, Thor decides to use the Aether as bait for Malekith to keep the fight away from a now defenseless and beaten down Asgard: releasing Loki with the intent to use his doorways to another world and take Malekith down after he removes the Aether from Jane. Though the Aether is removed, Malekith manages to survive the initial attack and take up the Aether: Loki killing many of Malekith's soldiers including Algrim/Kurse (seemingly at the cost of his life) when Thor struggles with the accursed. Defeated on Earth, the Aether is released from Malekith: and eventually returned to Asgard. In the final scenes, Loki is revealed to have taken Odin's place on the throne, and sent the Reality Stone to Tanaleer Tivan aka the Collector, who; unlike Loki would attempt to collect the next stone to appear...(Power 2014.)

(2018 Infinity War) Thanos retrieved the stone fairly quickly however once he had both the Power (to destroy Tanaleer's defenses and Collection both), and the Space Stone (to get him there, or anywhere; instantaneously.)

Power Stone (2014:) Kept on Morag after it's destruction at the hands of a Celestial wielding the same stone, several factions including Thanos himself were in direct pursuit of the Power Stone. Peter Quill got there first, and ended up pursued by Gamora, Thanos who she was splitting from, and the Imperialist Kree defector and terrorist Ronan the Accuser. While Tanaleer initially buys the stone from Peter and the Guardians, his inability to control it's Power (or rather his slave's inability) makes them decide not to go through with the sale. Ronan obtains the stone, but decides to use it on Xandar (among the MCU's nine realms and Asgard's ally-protectorate) rather than turn it over to Thanos, planning on killing the Mad Titan afterwards. Ronan fails, and the stone is kept on Xandar until 2018; when Thanos attacks and retrieves the Power Stone just prior to if not during the events of Thor: Ragnarok.

Time (????-2012:) Kept for thousands of years by the Order of the Mystic Arts (MotMA,) this stone was a central piece to the Eye of Agamotto: which also was central to the inter-planar/dimensional shields of the same name generated from the Sanctums in New York, London, and Hong Kong. There is no confirmation of why the Ancient One did not take greater part in the Invasion battle happening just blocks away, however; she was noted as being there and defending the Sanctum with the Infinity Stone around her neck: not just by the audience and Banner.. but also by the oddly few Chitauri she was fending off. We never see her down more than two on that bike (Reminder, this is on a planet that Loki has visited multiple times at this point, as a sorcerer himself: and Loki is also present in this battle: kind of weird in every direction unless you pay attention to the lore and character establishment.)

So .. why is any of that important?? Because almost all of the above about the Infinity Stones and more, happens AFTER 2011 when Loki is first taken by the Other, and coerced into Thanos' service. Meaning; even if you want to disavow every single piece of canon lore; years worth of official interviews, the actual story as it's stated outright summarized even in their own official bios, and the way the story was written from the start to get to the Infinity War saga? The simple fact is that Loki likely did not start that battle without extra reason in the process of fighting that coercion, at a distance that was more likely the only possible path to freedom from said coercion.

It's far more likely just with the year prior, that Loki not only knowing what Clint could and couldn't do; planned to stir up the Avengers as a countermeasure from the beginning, while riding out the threat and keeping bets in both camps as a just in case, to survive.

And Clint, was the perfect person to grab hold of with that kind of goal in mind. He had high clearance, exceptional and recognized skill, but and if he got out of control or something went wrong: his strength wouldn't have been an issue.

This and his experience through Selvig also explains why Loki did not try to turn Fury, stepping PAST him rather than letting Barton shoot him on the way out: Fury needed to be able to activate the Avengers initiative out of the proverbial trash bin it had been in at the time.

And let's keep in mind.. while Clint may not have been aware of all of this in 2012: he definitely was by the time EndGame came around; and Thor and the others had their time to explain what had happened.

I do wish they had touched on that in the films, and not chickened out on the original story by having Thanos kill Loki first; because oof that conversation and realization Loki spent half a decade separating the stones and rebuilding Asgard's defenses, only to have Odin ultimately be the one to screw everything over by trying to silently lure Hela to a much squishier Norway with his death? What a interesting and much more effective conversation that would have been, over the entirety of Gagnarok an their personal story bits as depicted instead, too..

Then again, as Laura pointed out in AoU.. Clint is great with his aim and spotting some things, but he's not great at understanding even the motivations of people closest to him, like Natasha.

Frosthawk Moments - Canon

So I made some gifs from some scenes in the first Avengers movie that no one ever talks about. I think most people have completely missed it because I've never actually seen anyone comment on it.

This:

Clint Barton actually hits Loki!

CLINT. HIT. LOKI.

That bullet hits—and then ricochets, and then Loki reacts like this:

He immediately retaliates, and if Clint hadn't ducked out of the way because he's incredibly good at that, he would have been obliterated head-on!

And as we all remember, Clint then gets back up after everyone else has been knocked down, and this moment happens here:

And this? This is when Clint realizes that Loki is far stronger than he was expecting—it's a great bit of acting on Renner's part, because you can see him realize 'holy crap, this guy is something else entirely'. Canonically, Hawkeye is the strongest of all the agents without any 'extras' and he's always been able to handle himself and this is the first time he's been up against something like this.

You can see his expression go from "ow, that hurts" to "wait...what the fuck?" and it's just so damn brilliant.

I always had the thought that Loki was getting irritated because he's aimed at the guy more than twice and not only did Clint dodge, but he got back up to keep fighting! Loki's literally thinking, You keep getting back up! Stop it!

...and I have always been certain that this was the moment he saw something in him.

This is why he said, "You have heart."

I genuinely think Loki was planning on killing him up until that point, but when he saw that this human had such a drive and passion to fight, he knew that this was the right person to protect him. I would like to remind people that Loki was actually still severely incapacitated, it just didn't seem that way because he was still stronger compared to humans.

Then in the scene that occurs right before the deleted scene (which explains so much more) we have this:

Look at how Loki looks at him, almost as though he's measuring just how adept he is and how smart he is. This is when Clint is explaining how he chose the location because they need the three levels of lead-lined flooring to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. from finding the cube. This is Loki realizing he chose the right person because right after this we hear him see, "I see why Fury chose you to guard it," acknowledging just how smart and adaptive he is.

And then there's an entire scene between the two of them that was cut from the final draft.

Which never. Should have been. DELETED.

Take this for instance:

You see all of those people? You see all of that massive set up??

NONE OF THAT WAS LOKI.

Everything that you see in the planning throughout the rest of the Avengers movie that seemed to be Loki was all Clint Barton outsmarting and outwitting S.H.I.E.L.D. He was the one who even came up with the plan for Loki to purposely get himself captured!!

Now let's talk about this scene here:

"I want to know everything you can tell me about this team of his. I would...test their' mettle."

Like...HELLO??? This tells us right here that Clint was the one who gave up all the information and told Loki everything about all of the Avengers! We can glean from the fact that we saw Clint in the first Thor movie (with Coulson) that he has been fully aware of the Avengers way before anyone else knew about it.

He had the most information besides Coulson. Which means that Loki went into his "capture" already knowing all about Clint and Nat's relationship, which also allows us to deduce that he also knew that Natasha was playing him from the beginning! He knew she would figure it out, so he was stalling for time—and that was it!

Then we have this:

Clint: "If you're set on making yourself known...could be useful." Loki: "Tell me what you need."

This is the dialogue that takes place here, and it explains so much. The way they originally cut the movie, it jumps from the scene with Selvig to the dialogue at the tail end of this deleted scene—which now, if you rewatch the movie, you will see is a glaringly obvious cut.

But this entire deleted scene sets up the rest. of the freaking. MOVIE.

This deleted scene shows us that Hawkeye was the mastermind behind not only taking down the helicarrier with only a few arrows, but also the one who planned the entire attack...just to get Loki back out after he triggered the Hulk.

Fury (over comms): "It's Barton. He took out our systems. He's headed for the detention level!"

ALL. CLINT'S. PLAN.

I am of the mind why they cut this scene was solely to put the blame on Loki, because if they had kept this scene in it would have become painfully obvious that Loki wouldn't have made it as far on his own and only made it so far because of Clint.

[thisblogwilleatourselves]

Ha! Look at these self-proclaimed arbiters of reality—*aren’t they just delightful?* Bumbling about with their labels and rules, thinking they’ve got some grand insight into the nature of existence! “All neurodivergent people are disabled,” they say, like they’ve just solved the meaning of life or some other trivial puzzle. But let’s zoom out for a second, shall we? Spin the wheel of misfortune! ***Ding ding ding***—here’s a riddle for ya: **What happens when you call something ‘disabled’ just because society can’t handle it?**

**Answer:** EVERYTHING becomes a disability! Hey, hey, if we’re playin’ that game, why not call being *trans* a disability, huh? After all, society doesn’t exactly *roll out the red carpet*, do they? Ooooh, but *that* doesn’t fit their precious little framework, does it? It’s almost like...they’re picking and choosing what’s convenient! What a concept!

And speaking of convenience, why stop there? How about every single way the world chews people up and spits them out? Why not slap a label on it, tuck it under ‘disability,’ and wash your hands of the whole messy affair? ***Bravo!*** But wait—there’s more! Ever think—*nahhh*, scratch that, who needs thinking?—that not *everybody* wants to wear that label like some kinda twisted merit badge? Ever consider that maybe, just *maybe*, some people look at that word and go: “You know what? *No thanks*, I’m not *playing* by *your* rules.”

Hah, guess that’s too much to ask, huh? The world’s gotta fit into a neat little checkbox, right? Or else it’s chaos, bedlam, **ANARCHY**! And oh boy, we can’t have *that*, can we? Gotta keep those lines clear and clean. Problem is, they’re not lines at all—they’re chains! Chains that’ll bind you tighter than a straightjacket in a padded room!

Sure, the *symptoms* are real, **undeniably**—oh, what fun they are!—but the diagnoses? The constructs? They’re just another set of fetters. A label here, a diagnosis there, and boom! You’ve got yourself a pretty little cage with your name on it. Shiny! Except, well…who built that cage? The same system that’s *literally* marinated in ableism and oppression? Oh, don’t mind the stench; it’s only been rotting for centuries.

All these fancy words like *autism, schizophrenia, osteoarthritis*, they’re just fragile, flimsy things. Names for what’s really going on in people’s bodyminds—just words slapped onto phenomena we still can’t quite wrap our minds around! Sure, they help for a bit, make things seem tidy and manageable, until someone turns around and says, “Wait, what if it doesn’t fit? What if it’s *wrong*?” And *whoosh*, there goes the whole damn circus tent! ‘Cause reality ain’t so tidy, is it?

Ever seen someone twist themselves into knots ‘cause they don’t fit the “criteria”? Arceus help them! *Criteria*—now there’s a word for you. Nothing like having a cold, unfeeling checklist decide your reality. Got enough symptoms? Congratulations! You’re officially labeled! Don’t have enough? Too bad! Off you go! No treatment for you! Let’s toss that out with the morning trash, shall we?

But here’s the *kicker*—this whole mess ain’t just about disabilities, *oh no no no*, it’s everywhere! Transmeds, sysmeds—they’re all running the same hamster wheel, screeching about who gets to *count*. “Nonbinary people must be trans or cis,” they say, drawing little lines in the sand. “Systems must have trauma!” Oh, of course! How silly of it to forget! *Everyone* needs a set of hoops to jump through, right?

So what’s it gonna be, folks? Keep breaking each other down into itty-bitty boxes till you can’t breathe anymore? Or maybe—*just maybe*—ditch the whole damn thing! Cast off the chains! Break the wheel! Aim to be like the natural Irkens, who don’t need your shackles of identity! Who refuse to be bound by labels and definitions. Who see a world not of limits but of **INFINITE** possibility! A world where YOU define YOURSELF, where no one—no god, no *lab coat*, no smug bureaucrat—gets to decide who or *what* you are!

Heheheh…so go ahead! Smash through your dimension! Ascend beyond the labels and the names! Or just stay in your little box, hugging your definitions like a security blanket while the world moves on without you. Either way, it’s a riot. But it’s your show, folks! So…what’s it gonna be?

[xxitslivxx]

Cuphead rap lyrics 😱😱😱

Take a sip of this, I'm an itty bitty Cuphead

One sentence in, I've already made a pun, yep

Picking up steam, wonder why they call me hothead

Struck a deal with the devil, now I'm rackin' up debt

Yes I made a dumb bet, no need to get upset

I'm a cup of trouble, have you seen my mugshot yet?

Step in front of my finger gun, and you drop dead

Wallop all your bosses, leave 'em all jobless

They'll never stop me from runnin' like a faucet

I'm a full cup, don't you ever try to top it

You can never touch this, but you can kick the bucket

I'm meant to be drunk from, but not to be trusted

Heads up, hit the deck, Mugman

You don't really wanna get your head busted

I'm a dirty dish, who needs a rough scrubbin'

After doing these devilish deeds, God damn!

I'll stop this train even if it's haunted

"Where's my ship?" Sorry just sunk it

Hopping like a frog, duck and dodge your punches

Won't shed a single tear when I'm choppin' onions

Spent all your breath huffin' and puffin'

Just to get dumped on by a cup for nothin'

Unless all you wanna end up dead

You do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled

My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?

I took the devilish gamble

Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle

And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill

Any line that you happen to draw

Is a line I'll be stepping across

Trapped in a world lacking any natural laws

Have you had your coffee yet? 'Cause I'm off of the walls

My demons need some exorcise

A little caffeine oughta get 'em energized

Will we ever get to heaven when we die?

Can't get any worse, we already bet our lives

Forget fairy tales, they're fizzin' out

I'd like to pick a fight with that prick, Micky Mouse

I'll kick his ass then I'll knock Walt Disney out

I'll leave 'em with a taste of toxic in their mouth (no!)

My hand's been dealt, it's a bad draw though

I'll go all in when the rest all fold

Look's like I'm on the last straw so

Better tell the devil th-that th-that's all folks!

Come see what we been brewin'

Something to keep ya movin'

Must be the beat I'm boomin'

Hit me with that funky music

How do we keep on groovin'?

Once could say we been juicin'

Beepin' boopin', looney toonin'

Time for you to face the music

You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled

My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?

I took the devilish gamble

Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle

And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill

I feel like the holy grail

Just hope I don't go to Hell

If so that won't go so well

I've been bad, but no one tell

I'm much more than just cup

Raise a toast and pick me up

Pour one more and drink it up, but don't choke

'Cause I'm not the kinda cup you should be chugging from

I'll get the jump on ya when I run and gun

Working for Lucifer is a ton of fun

"You two, do my bidding" done and done

I'm a jazzy chap who'll leave you razzle-dazzled

After I whoop and wallop your ass in battle

When I'm stuck up shits creek without a paddle

Just imagine, the glass is half full

You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled

My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?

I took the devilish gamble

Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle

And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill

[graspingremlinhands]

SOME GHIDZILLA FOR THE SOUL...

and TOXIC mothzilla shippers we don't do that here.

GOJIRA: Is something burning?

GHIDORAH: Just our love for you.

GOJIRA: Or maybe is the damn toaster on fire over here!!!!!!

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GOJIRA: Are you ready to commit?

GHIDORAH: Like, a crime or a relationship?

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

GOJIRA: I still have no idea how I'm attracted to you...

ICHI:Because we are the best

SAN: And you have very good taste

NI:Anyways you are now stuck with us and no take backs, b*****

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(small talk before some fight with random kaijus)

ICHI(to Goji): Well we both know who is the strongest between us, but IF something happens to my well-being you MUST NOT FORGET US, DON'T GET OVER IT. CRY OUR DEATH FOR YEARS, GO AROUND TELLING HOW MUCH YOU MISS US AND WHAT A WONDERFUL MATE WE WERE. That's all. Got it, love?

NI: But first thing first, make sure to avenge us.

SAN: Oh yes the revenge part. Make sure to make it spectacular!!!!!

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GOJIRA: Ghida, you think we should have a baby?

Ghidorah sprawled over Goji's lap: I'm baby

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

GHIDORAH: I'm so mad at you right now, can almost feel my blood boiling, seriously can't even look at you...

GOJIRA: So... little spoon or big spoon tonight?

GHIDORAH:......

GHIDORAH: Little, you dummy

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

RODAN: Sorry Kong but Goji has already a boyfriend

KONG: Uhmmm, and where is he?

GHIDORAH: Turn around

Well, it was fun, not gonna lie this ship is growing on me. Anyways this whatever is, was conceived for my personal amusement BUT also as an itty-bitty, silly-nilly present for @dabreadtoast, 'cause they are amizing artist and sweet person and a muse, who inspired me to come here.

THAT'S ALL FOLKS

[palaquinn]

I meant to foam at the mouth on this, but I’m on my phone for Tumblr most of the time and it makes it hard to get a really good lather up when I can only type on a little bitty phone pad.

You’re absolutely right @marblesarelost. This is basically one of the core findings of my dissertation. I freaking hate the fact that so much of my kid as a science educator is taking a textbook and translating it into SIMPLE ENGLISH. The folks who write them forget the whole point is to TEACH the material to people and then couch the information in jargon laden text. Yes accurate terms are important, but NOT when they obscure the stuff you’re trying to say!

[silkling]

Could you do a fic where High tide finds out how bad M.E.C.H is after Optimus shows up on the deck of his ship because the ground bridge is down and High tide is the closest, I don't see much of him so I wanted to ask

I’d love to! High Tide is a fun character, first impressions aside, and I always wished the show gave a little more on his relationship with Optimus. I understand why they didn’t, but hey, I can dream!

———————————————————————————————————

When Optimus Prime sent High Tide a comm. message asking him to dock his boat at a specific set of coordinates so he could board, and to be prepared to make a very quick getaway, High Tide’s battle protocols flared to life. They hadn’t activated since coming to Earth, since he didn’t need them when it came to working with that team of bitty younglings, and he certainly didn’t need them for his secondary mission given to him by the Prime, which was to scout Earth’s oceans for energon and mine and gather as much as he could. So when the familiar protocols roared to the forefront of his processor, it was easy to have his ship shift into its battle form, which involved the side narrowing a slight bit and a very large amount of weaponry unfolding from various parts of the boat or humming to life in hidden turrets. He easily did as his old friend asked, expecting that the Prime was facing Deceptions and possibly injured, and that’s why he needed a rescue and an escape route and not a battle assist.

Optimus Prime was indeed injured as he ran onto the ship, limping heavily, but High Tide caught no Decepticon signals on his sensors. His battle protocols whirled, trying to calculate what was going on and attempting to lock onto a target for High Tide fo fight. Still, he did as he had originally been asked and as soon as Optimus was on board he had the ship leaving and heading towards open waters. His processor still whirling with the urge to fight, the soldier grabbed his field first aid kit and went to help his commander patch himself up. He crouched next to the large mech, who was seated on the deck of the ship, and got to work.

“So Optimus, mind tellin’ me what you were runnin’ from?” he asked, his engine rumbling with battle-lust in tandem with the rasp of his voice.

The Prime only shot him a look, easily reading his posture and understanding what was going on in his processor. “Stand down, High Tide. There will be no fight today.”

“No fight!” he growled. “I think not! What ‘Con did this to you and where are they now?” he demanded, welding shut a leaking gash in the red armor.

“It was no Deception, old friend.”

High Tide froze, his optics narrowing. “No ‘Con? Then who? Humans?”

And that’s when his long distance sensors picked up the energy signatures of approaching vehicles. Approaching earth vehicles, coming from the air. High Tide’s engine snarled in displeasure, and he shot the Prime a dark look.

“This happened cause of your insistence on not harming humans, didn’t it?” he demanded. “Optimus, your dedication to being just and sowin’ as little violence as possible is one of the reasons I follow you. It means you care about life first and foremost and that makes you a very good commander. But sometimes, you take it too far!”

He sent the command to his ship to activate long-range weapons. He’d shoot the little insects out of the sky. Optimus obviously that saw the weapons on deck engaging and locking onto currently unseen targets, because he locked a hand around High Tide’s wrist.

“High Tide, do not!” he ordered.

The submarine glared at the Prime. “Tell me who they are, Optimus. I need an explanation.”

Optimus sighed. “They call themselves M.E.C.H. They are a human terrorist organization whose goal is to possess and control the most powerful and advanced technologies on the planet.”

High Tide narrowed his optics. “And right now, that’s us.”

A nod was his only reply.

“So they’re hunting Cybertronians, then? Why?”

Optimus hesitated before he answered, before he decided it might be best if his friend knew the whole story so he could understand the dangers. “They wish to cut one of us open and take them apart in order to figure out how we work. They want to create one of us themselves, on that is sparkless and mindless and follows only their commands.”

High Tide went rigid, and that was when the helicopters broke cloud cover and started barking down on the ship. He snarled, and his ship’s weapons began powering up.

“High Tide!” Optimus protested. “I said-!”

“I heard you the first time, Optimus.” High Tide said coldly. “And normally, I’d follow your orders. But you forget one thing: my primary duty as your soldier is to ensure you survive. So if I have to disobey your order to ensure you do, so be it.” He strode to the edge of the deck, gaze locking on the helicopters.

One of them stopped to hover closer to the water, and High Tide turned a cold glare onto it. “I suggest you and yours leave, little human.” he rumbled. “My ship has the firepower to take down a Decepticon war vessel.”

The apparent leader, a human with silver hair and a facial scar, only chuckled. “I think not. You robots are so squeamish about taking human lives. And besides, you’ll find that we are more than capable of handing a little heavy weaponry. We’ll come away from this endeavor with two prizes and a warship, it seems. How lovely.”

High Tide only bared his teeth in a savage grin. “I think you’ll find I have far fewer reservations about killin’ you little bugs than my commander.” he said coldly, and his ship fired. A high powered blaster bolt hit one of the other copters, blowing it to pieces and sending the wreckage falling into the sea below.

The human was obviously startled by the show, and he narrowed his eyes at the large blue Autobot. “So I see.” he said darkly.

High Tide could almost see him getting ready to give an order to attack, so he sent the ship another command. There was more fire, and then all the helicopter’s except the one in charge were nothing but flaming wreckage falling from the sky.

“Leave.” he snarled. “Last chance.”

The human narrowed his eyes, glaring, before nodding at the pilot next to him and then the helicopter was leaving, flying away and into the clouds. High Tide only relaxed when his long range sensors pinged back telling him they had left, and then he returned to his friend. His battle protocols started to cycle down, and the harsh glow of his optics lessened.

“High Tide…” Optimus sounded pained.

“I’m not going to apologize, Prime.” he said stiffly, returning to fixing up his commander. “I admire your desire for peace, I really do. But sometimes, the peaceful solution won’t work. You can’t just let them hunt you down like that. What if your refusal to fight back or let your team fight back means you lose another bot? What happens if those slag-heaps find the Rescue Bots?” he demanded.

Optimus winced, looking away. “It is wrong to use our might to kill so easily.”

“It is.” High Tide agreed. “But they weren’t non-threats, Optimus. If you keep letting them hunt you down without fightin’ back, then one of these days someone is going to suffer grievously at their hands, and with how determined all your team is to protect you…it won’t be you.” he said seriously.

Optimus was silent as High Tide finished, only looking up when the submarine stood and put the kit away. “You are right, of course.” he sounded exhausted. “But…”

“You don’t want to compromise another piece of your spark.” High Tide heaved a sigh. “I get it, Optimus. I really do. So I won’t say anythin’ about your decisions when it comes to you alone fightin’ them. But know this: I refuse to bow down and run from those humans. If they come after me, I will fight back and take out as many as I must. What happens if Blurr or Salvage are with me when they attack, Prime? Am I supposed to run and let those monsters have a chance at hurtin’ young bots who haven’t ever fought in the War?”

“…no. No, you are right, High Tide.” he heaved a sigh. “I will not protest your choices, and I thank you for your aid and for protecting me.”

High Tide relaxed, and finally let his ship return to its normal form. “I understand you, Optimus. We might disagree sometimes, but at the end of the day you’re still my friend and I will follow you, wherever this War takes us.”

Optimus shot him a tired, warm smile. “Thank you, old friend. I do not deserve such devoted loyalty from you, but I’m glad to have it nonetheless.”

High Tide grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “Of course, Prime. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

———————————————————————————————————

Here we are! Shorter than my usual fics, but I hope you like it nonetheless!

Silas just got a very harsh lesson that not all the ‘bots will be hesitant about using lethal force. He’ll be more wary around them from here on out! And Optimus is just tired of the War and violence and death. He doesn’t want more violence, but sometimes it’s the only way to stay alive. Poor guy.

Until next time, folks!

[certified-sane]

Once, a long time ago, there was a wise Zen master. People from far and near would seek his counsel and ask for his wisdom. Many would come and ask him to teach them, enlighten them in the way of Zen. He seldom turned any away.

One day an important man, a man used to command and obedience came to visit the master. “I have come today to ask you to teach me about Zen. Open my mind to enlightenment.” The tone of the important man’s voice was one used to getting his own way.

The Zen master smiled and said that they should discuss the matter over a cup of tea. When the tea was served the master poured his visitor a cup. He poured and he poured and the tea rose to the rim and began to spill over the table and finally onto the robes of the wealthy man. Finally the visitor shouted, “Enough. You are spilling the tea all over. Can’t you see the cup is full?”

The master stopped pouring and smiled at his guest. “You are like this tea cup, so full that nothing more can be added. Come back to me when the cup is empty. Come back to me with an empty mind.”

Take a sip of this, I'm an itty bitty Cuphead

One sentence in, I've already made a pun, yep

Picking up steam, wonder why they call me hothead

Struck a deal with the devil, now I'm rackin' up debt

Yes I made a dumb bet, no need to get upset

I'm a cup of trouble, have you seen my mugshot yet?

Step in front of my finger gun, and you drop dead

Wallop all your bosses, leave 'em all jobless

They'll never stop me from runnin' like a faucet

I'm a full cup, don't you ever try to top it

You can never touch this, but you can kick the bucket

I'm meant to be drunk from, but not to be trusted

Heads up, hit the deck, Mugman

You don't really wanna get your head busted

I'm a dirty dish, who needs a rough scrubbin'

After doing these devilish deeds, God damn!

I'll stop this train even if it's haunted

"Where's my ship?" Sorry just sunk it

Hopping like a frog, duck and dodge your punches

Won't shed a single tear when I'm choppin' onions

Spent all your breath huffin' and puffin'

Just to get dumped on by a cup for nothin'

Unless all you wanna end up dead

You do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said

You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled

My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?

I took the devilish gamble

Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle

And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill

Any line that you happen to draw

Is a line I'll be stepping across

Trapped in a world lacking any natural laws

Have you had your coffee yet? 'Cause I'm off of the walls

My demons need some exorcise

A little caffeine oughta get 'em energized

Will we ever get to heaven when we die?

Can't get any worse, we already bet our lives

Forget fairy tales, they're fizzin' out

I'd like to pick a fight with that prick, Micky Mouse

I'll kick his ass then I'll knock Walt Disney out

I'll leave 'em with a taste of toxic in their mouth (no!)

My hand's been dealt, it's a bad draw though

I'll go all in when the rest all fold

Look's like I'm on the last straw so

Better tell the devil th-that th-that's all folks!

Come see what we been brewin'

Something to keep ya movin'

Must be the beat I'm boomin'

Hit me with that funky music

How do we keep on groovin'?

Once could say we been juicin'

Beepin' boopin', looney toonin'

Time for you to face the music

You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled

My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?

I took the devilish gamble

Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle

And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill

I feel like the holy grail

Just hope I don't go to Hell

If so that won't go so well

I've been bad, but no one tell

I'm much more than just cup

Raise a toast and pick me up

Pour one more and drink it up, but don't choke

'Cause I'm not the kinda cup you should be chugging from

I'll get the jump on ya when I run and gun

Working for Lucifer is a ton of fun

"You two, do my bidding" done and done

I'm a jazzy chap who'll leave you razzle-dazzled

After I whoop and wallop your ass in battle

When I'm stuck up shits creek without a paddle

Just imagine, the glass is half full

You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled

My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?

I took the devilish gamble

Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle

And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Timothy Christian Ames / John Warren Gelardi

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

JATP ROUND THREE FICS!

We received fourteen (14!!!!) fics for Round Three of the JATP Event! These fics are full of that sweet, sweet canonverse goodness that we can’t get enough of, but with our signature TROPED twist! We loved to see you all challenge yourselves with the theme, tropes, and pairings!

Please try to read as many fics as you can! Take some notes, leave some kudos/comments for the authors, and help us vote on the winners!

Voting will be open until May 29th at 11:59pm EST! Vote here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/BZ3W5FT

———

Just say you won't let go (Rated G) [Julie/Luke]

Summary: Hey, Julie

You're the heart and soul 'round here, it's plain to see

in which Julie has a second chance with her boys, and then another

we will fight to shine together (bright forever) (Rated G) [Bright Lighting Guy/Rob from the Orpheum]

Summary: “Hey,” Chris says, walking up to the boy. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he puts the dandelions down and stands up. “Hi. I’m trying to make a flower crown, but I don’t remember how.”

“Cool. I’m Chris, I live--” he points to his house. “Over there.”

The boy gives him a lopsided smile. “I’m Rob. I’m staying with my grandparents for the summer.”

~

or: the rob/bright lighting guy fic literally nobody asked for but i wrote anyways. enjoy gays, bring ur tissues

what happened when (Rated G) [Alex/Luke]

Summary: Before Julie and the Phantoms, before the guys became ghosts, before Sunset Curve -- they were Luke and Alex. Not 5 feet apart cause they're totally gay.

who cares if one more light goes out? (in a sky of a million stars) (Rated T) [Ray/Rose]

Summary: Rose moves in across the street when he’s eight and she is seven. Their parents push for them to play together, because that’s what parents do. They’re not wrong about it though. The two of them get on like a house on fire and some of his happiest memories from his childhood are just him and Rose, sitting in the large oak tree behind their houses. Hidden up in the branches, between the millions of dark green leaves, they played together.

or: The first and the last time Ray ever kissed Rose.

we can forget the world (just you and me) (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: “This was the first place I ever came out to someone,” Alex says, spinning around and taking in the tree house.

together we can take on the world (Rated G) [Alex/Reggie]

Summary: Alex Mercer meets Reggie Peters on October 8, 1983, which means that two days have passed since Reggie's sixth birthday, because Reggie is a Libra according to the magazines that his mom reads when she gets Reggie to paint her toenails. He’s also just moved to Los Angeles, California from his hometown of Gatlinburg, Tennessee, a small town in the mountains, and he’s told Alex Mercer about all of this in the three minutes that they’ve known each other, and he might be the loudest, most obnoxious boy that Alex has ever met, and he absolutely has to be Alex’s new best friend.

The Peters family moves in down the street from the Mercers in 1983, and so begins the rest of their lives.

Long Live (Can I start another life with you?) (Rated T) [Julie/Luke]

Summary: It's all too much for one day: first a muffin, then more heartbeats. Julie just needs some time to think. If Luke runs after her to sit by her side so she doesn't lose it, she won't complain.

Except afterwards, he starts acting weird. Very weird. And months later, she's tired of letting him keep his distance.

She can’t do this. Not right now. Not today.

She jumps back on her feet.

The excited grin falls from Luke’s face. She doesn’t try to catch it.

“I – I think this is too much. I need some time. Alone. Sorry.”

Then she runs. She runs past the calloused fingers reaching out to her. Past Reggie and the door, past carved pumpkins on porches and Cornelia Street.

She just runs.

Roses (Rated G) [Emily & Luke, Alex/Luke]

Summary: It becomes a sacred place she shares with her son. Mitch is usually off at work from dawn until six o’clock, but Emily’s working from home for now. She works as a florist’s shop right outside the neighborhood. So she brings home seeds and little flowers and other cuts from the store; she and Luke will spend hours out in the dirt, planting seeds and making mud pies and Luke will babble about whatever happened in daycare and make up stories about the different flowers.

Somewhere Only We Know (Rated T) [Nick/Carrie]

Summary: Nick Danforth-Evans met Julie Molina when he was six years old. He had no idea how much an impact that afternoon would have on his life.

___

A journey through Nick Danforth-Evan's life as experienced in the safety of his backyard hide away.

The Itty Bitty Details (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: “Did I forget to mention William, I also get your soul,”

Willie could feel a stinging feeling and a purple stamp appeared on his hand. When the stamp appeared he could no longer remember who Alex was. The name meant nothing to Willie now.

Or 5 times Willie knew Alex and one where Alex knew Willie

you're the only one who makes me (my wildflower) (Rated T) [Bobby/Reggie]

Summary: The tree was Reggie's safe space, and Bobby was his safe person. He could escape all his troubles there, except for one nagging thought - did he have feelings for his best friend?

Dying complicated things.

because i've known you so long, i know every cadence and what they mean (Rated G) [Alex & Julie, Julie/Luke]

Summary: Alex and Julie have always lived right next to each other. Through highs and lows, they grow up together. Also, 5 times Luke kisses Julie and it doesn't count plus 1 time Julie kisses Luke and it does count.

Alternatively, the Juke 5+1 fic from Alex's POV. Strap in, folks.

Someday (I'll See You Again) (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: They’re wrong. Alex, you are not a failure. You’re incredible. You’re smart. You’re funny, and the best friend I could ask for. You’re a wicked talented drummer and you have a beautiful voice. And more important than all of that, is that you’re you, Alex. And the you you are is wonderful, and lovable and perfect. If your parents can’t see that, that’s their own fault. But I swear, Alex. If you’re afraid of them, I need you to tell me. You have to be safe.” Willie’s voice had gone desperate by the end. Alex deserved to know how freaking amazing he was and the fact that his parents didn’t bother to tell him, and actively worked to tear him down instead, was infuriating.

But Willie also worried about him. He’d worried about Alex since the first time he heard Mr. Mercer shouting through the window, a worry that never really went away. Not with the way Alex automatically straightened up when his parents were mentioned, as if he could hear his dad lecturing him about appearances from miles away. Not with the way Alex looked when he was with them, perfectly pieced together and falling apart at the seams, eyes distant and shoulders tense. Willie was pretty sure he had worrying about Alex etched in his bones by this point.

The Energy Never Dies (Rated T) [Gen Fic]

Summary: Well, I ain't always right, but I've never been wrong

Seldom turns out the way it does in a song

Once in a while, you get shown the light

In the strangest of places if you look at it right

--- Scarlet Begonias, Grateful Dead

Four moments across time in the loft of the Molina's garage.

[sad-boy-hank]

God im so sorry i didn't think yesterday would've been so busy 😭

honestly the only thing that keeps the colony from being yan as they are regularly is the fact that im set on dynamic stability and relatively equal power so I fucking forget romance exists a Lot of the time. I think of the colony as some sort of found family but Neglectful's still a reader so if they were to feel like taking that route then fine by me lol-

Also most of the bittys drawn were Smaller than a cat but either way 48 grunts, two gol3ms, and a mag is still a lot of weight

It was obvious that the company you've attracted didn't care much for being on the move everytime the resources get a little too low for comfort but for the most part they seemed to understand and trust that you knew what you were doing. They'd notice how you'd actively decline and avoided eating the flesh of both their and your own kind and laugh. Call you a coward and a pushover. They'd seen how you've take hesitation in your next move after stabbing a grunt or stomping on the throat of a man. It's strange that you haven't found a way to turn the hurt into happiness, maybe even a little frustrating. It wasn't until you started to pick up your older group's migration pattern and running into familiar folks did they start ignoring your requests to hold off on attacks entirely- the larger members of the colony always left a few scratches or bruises when they forgot your limits and played a bit too rough but now even as you tried to reason with them that the folks you've met are friendly and aren't much more different than hoffnar fellas, they'd show their disagreement by digging their nails further into your shoulders and pulling you back. Your way around getting your ass shredded like cheese in friendly meet-ups was figuring out you could give the MAG and GOL3M pair tasks you've already shown to be very important to complete your own nutritional and mental needs. That was the week you very quickly found out how your undersized companions faired so well before you even knew they existed- you'd've accidentally kicked one of the bandits in an act of self preservation post "slaughtering your ex-acquaintances in front of you, live at 10" frenzys. After the recent tension between the Neglectful and the colony? They're Not going to take it as the usual playfighting/pecking order arrangements- stabbing your ankles countless times and digging needles into your wrists to have better anchorage when binding them against your body certainly didn't tickle. A group of three will be sent to go tell the Mag what happened and while you struggle on the ground trying to get up and at least Attempt to get away, the bandits are on top of you, biting out chunks of your flesh, small, even by their standards and purring. Telling you that "with a little fixing you're perfect", "we'll take such good care of you" and that "you'd look so good stuck between my teeth", which was usually funny watching them say in attacks. On yourself? Not pleasant. It wasn't long before you were dragged to the most recent temporary camp you've made to share with the colony. Might've felt like crying when the two GOL3Ms were already there and pulled you over by the arms to inspect damage, when nothing too serious to them is found they growled and their grip grew tighter. The few bandits that were still hidden on you peeked out to hiss back and the two would let go and continue with the task of despining the cacti but you could feel their stare. Anytime you got close to the door, all noise in the camp would stop, save for the quickly approaching MAG.

Now that you're stuck at home with them they'll have to go out by themselves to bring back food to share, that being; grunts, human parts, and they knew you liked plants but had a Very hard time telling them apart so not only were you getting sick from the drastic change in diet you were getting straight up poisoned. Moments when the bandits thought you were trying to leave would result in you getting swarmed and drowned in a treatment of pain and praise... What you'd Give to be a lonely, neglectful, little nobody wandering what only ever appeared to be abandoned again. For now you'll have to bide your time.

oh no,- I might just start to enjoy hurting Neglectful dhsbsvfstdhdbscsdf

OUENBCWYHBRFDHC BROOOOOOO THIS IS ACTUALLY SO GOOOOOOOD NHJNXOEWBNHCYRE

[themurphyzone]

PatB Oneshot: A Whole New Life for You and Me

For the air mice nyoom’s server Secret Santa for @deez-art! Decided to gift them a fic for the wonderful Brainladdin AU cause it’s so pure and I live for found family. I decided to go with the happy ending for the movie, cause Genie’s reaction upon being freed melts me every time.

@nuttersincorporated came up with the fun idea of Wakko calling Brainladdin ‘Dad’ and Brainladdin denying it every time. I thought it was cute XD

Summary: The evil Snowballjafar has been defeated, but there's still some loose ends that need to be wrapped up. And really, there are way too many emotions going on here for Brainladdin's comfort. 

AO3 Link (No FFN post cause AO3 has easier x-over system). 

No power, however grandiose and terrifying, could go unchecked by the laws of the universe. Snowballjafar had forgotten there were unseen forces far greater than himself, even with phenomenal cosmic power at his fingertips.

The price to pay? Itty bitty living space inside a cramped magical lamp.

Brainladdin stared down at the black lamp that now contained his former friend turned enemy. While part of him would always remember Snowballjafar as a fellow young orphan on the streets, he also knew that this fate was karma for all of the hamster’s cruelty.

Jaspinky wouldn’t be forced into a union he didn’t want. Yakko wouldn’t be forced to hurt the people he’d come to regard as his younger siblings. Wakko and Dot wouldn’t be forced to live in an ACMEbah under Snowballjafar’s iron command.

ACMEbah was restored. Everyone was safe.

Brainladdin gave the lamp to Yakko, now back to his normal self, or as normal as could be for a wisecracking genie with a penchant for cartoonish humor.

“Allow me,” Yakko said, winking at Wakko and Dot as he zipped towards the palace balcony that overlooked the city. The kids eagerly scrambled over to the balcony to watch the proceedings.

In a flash of light, Yakko now wore a backwards blue cap, Wakko sported some strange armor that covered his chest and face, and Dot had a pink helmet with her trademark yellow flower painted on the side. Wakko and Dot grinned up at Yakko with adoring expressions, hanging off the balcony a little too eagerly for Brainladdin’s peace of mind.

“Wakko! Get off that railing at once!” Brainladdin shouted.

“Yes, Pops,” Wakko said in the universal ‘exasperated teen’ tone, which Brain suspected he’d picked up from Yakko. But Wakko planted his two feet on safe ground anyway, settling for standing on his tiptoes instead.

“I’m not—oh forget it,” Brainladdin sighed. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and he’d rather just take the defeat now instead of prolonging it.

Jaspinky giggled, his jewelry swaying gently with every movement. His blue eyes sparkled once again, a much welcomed change from the abject terror he had experienced while drowning in the sand-filled hourglass. And really, he looked much better in blue and gold than seductive red.

It was an objective fact.

Yakko held the lamp in his left arm, then wound it so fast that it resembled a blue whirlwind. “This is it, folks! The real teeth-clenching, nailbiting, game-winning swing of whatever century we’re in!”

Another magical burst, and Brainladdin found himself holding a tiny triangular flag emblazoned with Dot’s flower. Jaspinky screamed in glee, waving a giant pointing foam finger that now covered his right hand. Brainladdin rolled his eyes, but held the flag as high as he could in a silent show of support.

Dot readied her large mallet as Wakko crouched behind her, punching his fist into the palm of his hand. Yakko zipped to the other side of the balcony, then hurled the lamp towards Dot with all his might.

THWACK!

Dot’s mallet connected with the lamp and sent it soaring high into the blue sky and far beyond the walls of ACMEbah, straight into the heart of the vast desert.

“THAT’S FOR JASPINKY, MY BROTHERS, AND BRAINLADDIN CAUSE I FEEL LIKE BEING GENEROUS, YOU STUPID HAMSTER!” Dot screamed as she dashed around the balcony at high speeds, high-fiving Jaspinky’s foam finger as she passed him.

“And it’s outta here, thanks to my new sister sib! What a swing!” Yakko ruffled Dot’s hair as she threw herself at Wakko, knocking him down from his crouched position. The two laughed and embraced, laughing in joy and relief that their ordeal was really over. The duo began an odd victory dance that involved a lot of stomping both of them and rude hand gestures to the horizon on Dot’s part. “He’s looking at uhhhhhhhh…about a ten thousand year sentence in the Cave of Wonders. Without parole or bail, unless some poor shmuck decides to release him in a cashgrab sequel. But that’s a problem for another time.”  

Brainladdin allowed himself a tiny smile. And Jaspinky smiled that bright, silly smile that always seemed to make Brainladdin’s chest flutter swiftly and strange, but not in a wholly unpleasant way either.

To think this entire business had started out as a way to ascend to the throne of ACMEbah. Leave poverty behind him. Get Wakko some actual food and not worry about amputated limbs courtesy of angry shopkeepers.

He hadn’t counted on falling head over heels for Jaspinky’s gentle spirit. Who wanted to marry for love and not for power or fame or wealth. Nor had he counted on striking up a genuine friendship with a powerful magical being, who had wishes of his own yet was bound to the desires of his master.

Wakko lived by the rules of the street rat like Brainladdin, but he’d found a kinship with others willing to show him the affection Brainladdin couldn’t offer him.

Dot could finally be a child, a rather clever and self-sufficient one, and now she had brothers who would watch her back from this point on.

And Brainladdin found himself back to square one. There were other methods to take over ACMEbah, but he couldn’t continue perpetrating this lie.

Jaspinky deserved someone better than him. Wakko should be taken care of by people who would provide for every physical need and show him the love he deserved. He didn’t get along with Dot, but she was protective of Jaspinky, and it was by far her most admirable trait.

Most importantly, this quest would’ve been doomed to fail from the beginning if it hadn’t been for Yakko, who supported the endeavor in his snarky, playful way, entertained with his magic, and didn’t seem to begrudge Brainladdin for not keeping his promise when he’d been blinded by power.

Really, Yakko never should’ve been locked away from the world, only to come out when someone wanted to use him.

“Pondering again, Brainladdin?” Jaspinky asked. He took off the foam finger and set it down gently, then carefully pried the flag out of Brainladdin’s hands. His fingers were warm and gentle, much like how they’d held hands on that whimsical carpet ride just a few starlit nights ago.

“Yes,” Brainladdin said softly. He swallowed the lump in his throat, then took Jaspinky’s hands in his and tried not to think about how this would be the last time he might ever see him. “And I’m sorry I lied to you about being a prince.”  

Jaspinky teared up, his impossibly blue eyes reflecting the sky above. “It’s okay. I know why you did,” he whispered, like the lie was easy to forgive, just like that.  

A street rat couldn’t hope to change a centuries-old law. Street rats had no power, no connections, no respect. And the Sultan-CEO wouldn’t approve of any match but the ones she selected for Jaspinky, regardless of his wishes.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” Brainladdin squeezed Jaspinky’s hands, just to prolong releasing his hands for a little longer.  

“It’s not fair,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I love you.”

Brainladdin had seen those words float around in every step, every touch, every look from Jaspinky. But to hear it spoken out loud…

Well, it seemed he would be yearning for much more than power once he returned to the street.

A few teardrops splashed down from above. Yakko sniffed into a handkerchief, and Wakko and Dot stopped dancing, the reality of the situation sinking in, judging from their crestfallen expressions.

“Sorry. Never been this invested in a love story before,” Yakko said, poofing the handkerchief away as he drifted down next to Brainladdin. “But ya still got one wish left. Might as well use it. Just say the word and it’s riches, elephants, an entourage, and the whole prince shebang.”

Even after I went back on my promise to set you free? Brainladdin wanted to ask, but the words caught in his throat. You still want to offer me a chance to be with Jaspinky?

“Eh, what’s an eternity of servitude to love?” Yakko stretched casually, as if he could read Brainladdin’s thoughts. He bumped noses with Jaspinky, who smiled despite his tears. “You only come across someone like Jaspinky…well, never actually. Then again, trying to score a date can be pretty hard when you’re stuck in a lamp.”  

Brainladdin cupped Jaspinky’s cheek in the palm of his hand. He wouldn’t feel his warm, luxurious fur ever again.

“Jaspinky…while I-I reciprocate your affections, I can’t fabricate an entire persona to make you…you know.” Brainladdin looked down, unable to meet Jaspinky’s tearful gaze.

“Um…” Jaspinky just sounded confused.

“He stinks at admitting he loves you even though it���s completely obvious cause he actually wants you to be happy unlike all those other rotten, no-good, stuck-up jerkwad princes!” Dot shouted.

He could’ve done without the insult, but he nodded his thanks to Dot for the translation to Jaspinky terms.

“I understand, Brainladdin,” Jaspinky murmured. He kissed the back of Brainladdin’s hand, soft lips pressing against the calloused skin. Brainladdin allowed a moment for the kiss to settle, then pulled away to take care of one last piece of business.

“Yakko, I wish for your freedom,” Brainladdin declared.  

This was his chance to set things right. So that Yakko would have his freedom, never be forced to serve a cruel master again, and fully become the loving, questionably responsible brother he was meant to be.

“Right away! Vipers, monkeys, gold, coming right-” Yakko said, dusting off his gloves and cracking his knuckles. He raised his arms, then paused in surprise, the final wish not quite registering yet. “-wait, what?”  

Brainladdin held the lamp up to Yakko. The forever-teenager’s powers would be his own, never subject to anyone’s whims again.

“Yakko, you’re free.”  

Blue smoke poured out of the lamp as it rose out of Brainladdin’s hands, swirling around Yakko’s body as he looked on, completely speechless for probably the first time in millennia. His eyebrows drew up in shock, his arms making odd, meaningless motions as if he didn’t know what to do with his own body. Bolts of cosmic, ancient magic weaved around Yakko in indescribable colors, sparking clouds of massive energy that had never been witnessed before or ever again.

Jaspinky rested his jaw on top of Brainladdin’s head, not caring if he squished his fez. Wakko’s tongue lolled out happily, and Dot bounced up and down in sheer amazement before catching herself and settling for a joyful grin. Together they watched the golden shackles around Yakko’s wrists break and vanish into a cloud of magical sparkles.

Yakko stared at his own bare wrists, rubbing them and feeling the fur beneath his bonds, probably for the first time in his long life. He turned them in every possible direction, his mouth making movements that were heavily reminiscent of a fish out of water.  

“I’m free?” Yakko asked in disbelief. He gingerly picked up his lamp by the handle, tapping it a few times in case it had any power left. But the lamp had lost its golden sheen, its exterior now a dull brown. Yakko’s chest heaved up and down rapidly. “I’m free.”

His voice was tiny, not at all full of confidence and bravado as Brainladdin had admittedly grown fond of throughout this whole ordeal.

Then he cleared his throat, thrusting the depowered lamp into Brainladdin’s arms and startling Jaspinky enough that his arms slipped off Brainladdin’s head. Jaspinky laughed it off, and Brainladdin nudged him with his foot.

“Quick! Wish for something outrageous! Wish for denial!” Yakko begged as he covered his eyes, turning away from Brainladdin. “That’s it! Denial!”

Brainladdin shrugged, but obliged anyway. “I wish for denial?”

“Psych! Like you really need me for something you’ve already got!” Yakko shouted in Brainladdin’s face, giggling uncontrollably.

Brainladdin sighed and pushed Yakko’s face away from his, but Yakko’s glee was absolutely infectious, and even he couldn’t help but smile as Yakko bounced off pillars and roofs and the ground below, reveling in his newfound freedom. Whatever Yakko planned to do, Brainladdin had no doubts that the genie would use his liberation from the lamp well.  

“I’mfreeI’mfreeI’mfree—I’M FREE!” Yakko chanted the mantra over and over. He lifted Wakko and Dot onto his shoulders and nuzzled their noses, and they returned the gesture with huge smiles. Wakko leaned a little too far over for comfort as the trio celebrated in midair, but it seemed that Yakko’s magic allowed him to stay on without worrying about the laws of physics.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to see the world! You know how boring lamp interiors are? It’s good that you don’t, cause you’ll be bored if I answered that!” Yakko exclaimed as he conjured a long, blue slide that allowed Wakko and Dot to safely return to the balcony in style. Then he broke out an enormous suitcase, packing clothes, toys, and other items with a ridiculous amount of arms.  

So Yakko planned to leave too. But Brainladdin tried to hang onto the joy of Yakko’s freedom for a little longer, trying not to linger on how his life always consisted of saying goodbye to anyone he met that he’d grown to…tolerate.

“Well, off to see the sights! Tahiti, China, the Galapagos, Pennsylvania, Switzer-“

Yakko paused and looked down, a bag of apples in one hand and a potted cactus in another. His mouth opened in surprise. He was watching Brainladdin.

Then Brainladdin’s vision blurred. He wiped his eyes, and his fingers came away damp. No one else had commented yet, though Jaspinky’s hand was on the small of his back, but Brainladdin said nothing. Best to ingrain the memory of Jaspinky’s soft touch in his mind while he had the chance.

Yakko wiped away a few tears of his own, his form shrinking until he was just a head taller than Wakko.

“Poit. I’ll let you have a moment,” Jaspinky whispered. Brainladdin only registered his words just as the gentle pressure vanished from his back. Dot knelt, taking Jaspinky in her cupped hands. She was silent, only giving Yakko an odd look before retreating into the palace for her own private conversation with the princess, leaving Wakko and Brainladdin alone with Yakko.

A case of déjà vu swept through Brainladdin. He and Wakko alone in the Cave of Wonders. Wakko bouncing along to a bombastic musical number, where he could have a fun childhood experience that ACMEbah refused to grant. Yakko’s excitement over simply talking to living beings.

At first, Yakko was just a means to an end. He was powerful, and it wasn’t difficult to work within the boundaries of his genie limitations. Maybe he could’ve took things more seriously, maybe he could’ve stopped jabbering for just a few seconds so Brainladdin could get a word or two in. Although Yakko had been trapped within a role, he still made everyone smile, he was protective, and he was kind.

“Hey.” Yakko tapped Brainladdin’s forehead. “You really oughta stop that brooding habit of yours.”

“I don’t brood. I ponder,” Brainladdin shot back, ridding himself of the watery veil in his eyes. Yakko provided him with a handkerchief, and Brainladdin blew his nose. The item poofed away. “Thanks, Yakko. For everything, and not just for convenient items you can create without obeying the laws of physics and other scientific fields.”

“Are you really gonna see the world?” Wakko asked, his eyes shining with wonder.

Wakko had expressed a desire to see the world many times before, but only so he could earn enough money to help Brainladdin put bread on the table. One of Brainladdin’s regrets about this elaborate plan falling through, really. Nobody, especially a child, should ever have to worry about rationing one loaf of bread and an apple to last a week.

Here was a prime opportunity for Wakko to experience the world without financial woes dragging him down from truly enjoying it, since Yakko could just create money and food as needed and serve as a somewhat responsible guardian for him.

Brainladdin didn’t ask though, but only because he didn’t know how to broach the topic. Wakko would never follow his own dream if he was constantly worried for Brainladdin, and it didn’t feel quite right to request something of Yakko so soon after his new freedom.  

Yakko nodded, wiping away a stray tear from his cheek. “Well, more than what I’m seeing right now, anyway. And really, it’s no problem-o. At least you guys aren’t boring. Can’t say the same about all the other masters I’ve had.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Wakko admitted. He held up his arms, and Yakko scooped him up in an enormous hug. Wakko flopped like a sack of potatoes, nuzzling into Yakko’s fur.

“Heh, you too, kid,” Yakko murmured. “Boy, have you been filling up on the palace’s sweetcakes or something since we started this whole thing?”  

It wasn’t healthy sustenance by any means, but if Wakko was truly putting on weight, then Brainladdin saw no reason to complain.

Yakko shifted his brother so that he was secure in one arm, then set his other hand on the ground next to Brainladdin, who stepped into the offered palm. Yakko set Brainladdin on his shoulder, a gentle brush of magic preventing any accidental falls.

“Yakko…” Brainladdin could barely look him in the eye. “Though your antics could be somewhat over the top, you go about them with a certain degree of charm. And I suppose…I’ll miss you as well.”

“Awww, only somewhat over the top? Looks like I gotta up my game.” Yakko cracked a grin. Then he pushed his nose against Brainladdin’s, and while it was an odd feeling to be nuzzled on the nose, he didn’t push Yakko away either.

Wakko made an angry noise in the back of his throat.

Brainladdin shrugged. His dignity had been torn to shreds anyway. “I can learn to tolerate one more.”

And Wakko immediately closed the distance, his knee digging into Yakko’s smoky tail and somehow making him go ‘oomph’ even though there shouldn’t have been anything with substance there. Wakko’s nuzzle was somewhat rougher than Yakko’s, but it wasn’t anything Brainladdin couldn’t handle.

And this was long overdue, Brainladdin thought as he patted Wakko’s cheek. Had he ever done this while Wakko was awake and conscious to feel it? He wasn’t sure, but as Jaspinky taught him…it wasn’t too late to start.

“Who cares what anyone says? You guys are always gonna be royalty to me,” Yakko declared.  

Wakko closed his eyes and almost melted right there, and Yakko had to set him down carefully since the kid’s body composition seemed to be made out of shifting sand with all the physical contact. Brainladdin carefully climbed down Yakko’s arm and tried not to tear up again at his words.

Just as Brainladdin’s feet touched the ground, there was a furious scream from the door on the far side of the room.

“The Sultan-CEO is just…AHHHHHHH!” Dot shouted as she stomped across the tiled floor and slumped against the balcony railing, her head smacking against the metal bars. Her brothers threw their arms around her instantly, and her ire diminished, though she was still wracked with tension.  

Jaspinky trailed behind her, his shoulders and tail drooping, the golden band around his tail making sad tap-tap-tap noises.

Shoot. He was still crying.

“I’m sorry, Brainladdin.” Jaspinky twisted his tail between his hands. “Sultan-CEO-Mom’s still awfully mad. Some dictator from the kingdom of Dunlikus was supposed to meet with her but got caught in a whirlywind from Snowballjafar’s evil magic. She wouldn’t listen to us. But…Dot tried to convince her about you. She really did.”

“I believe you, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin quietly said as he patted Jaspinky’s back. Jaspinky sniffed once, twice, then intertwined his tail with Brainladdin’s. While Brainladdin’s tail was crooked and stiff from the amount of times he’d been roughly grabbed while stealing, Jaspinky’s was smooth and unblemished. “Did she say anything to Dot in particular?”  

It was rather interesting to watch Jaspinky’s tail flow with every unrestrained emotion. Yet it also served as a reminder of their very different social statuses.

Jaspinky nodded sadly. “She said Dot doesn’t have any good ideas cause she’s just a kid who doesn’t know how the real world works. But then…neither of us have really seen the world outside the palace. The magic carpet ride was my first time, and it really was a magical wonderful memory I’ll treasure forever. But Dot-well, how do we know how the world works if we’re stuck here?”

For all his oddities, Jaspinky could ask the most profound questions.

“You won’t.”

But Jaspinky couldn’t live in the city either. Brainladdin didn’t want Jaspinky’s kindred spirit snuffed out by the cynicism and roughness of the streets.  

Jaspinky winced, hurt shining in his blue eyes. Realizing his reply came out blunter than he intended, Brainladdin rubbed a circle into Jaspinky’s hand in a silent apology. Jaspinky lifted Brainladdin’s fez and planted a kiss on top of his head, then made a show of adjusting the fez.  

Brainladdin took Jaspinky by the hand and led him to the siblings. He wondered how exactly he’d come to have more physical contact in the past day than what he’d given and received in years. Truth be told, it was a terrifying yet exhilarating change. But it would also be tinged with bittersweet.

After Jaspinky, he doubted he’d be able to ever touch anyone like this ever again.  

“It’s okay-“ Yakko tried, hands held out to placate Dot.

“No, it’s not!”

Wakko was silent, but he was the first to spot Brainladdin and Jaspinky joining them. He gently turned Dot so that she was no longer glaring daggers into the buildings of ACMEbah. The fur around her eyes was damp with tears.

Jaspinky climbed up the skirt of Dot’s pink and white dress and perched on her shoulder, humming comfort into her ear. Dot stroked his head with her finger, and his foot kicked rapidly. She gave a tiny laugh.  

Which was excellent, because Brainladdin was rather weary of all the crying. “Jaspinky explained what happened with the Sultan-CEO,” he said. “Though it didn’t have the results you wanted, we’d like to commend your effort regardless.”

“What Brainladdin said!” Jaspinky chirped. “Remember that mean ol’ Chance O’ Ler from Turkey? He was so scared of Sultan-CEO-Mom that his pants changed colors! But you didn’t even flinch in front of her!”

“Hey, how come nobody invited me to witness all this?” Yakko pouted, holding up a dramatic Greek mask with an exaggerated frown. “I would’ve drawn pictures of that moment, you know! I’m getting really good with my sketches!”

He snapped his fingers, and five large scrolls materialized, each containing a drawing of everyone in their group. Brainladdin thought it was a surprisingly accurate representation of himself…

…except his hands resembled a lump with misshapen sausages for fingers attached.

It was the most glaring flaw in all the other scrolls too.

“Are those chain-link sausages?” Wakko asked, pointing to his own sketch. Brainladdin was just glad he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“I like them!” Jaspinky said, wiggling his own fingers.

“It was mostly proportionate. But the hands leave a lot to be desired,” Brainladdin added.  

Dot only covered her mouth and ducked her head.

Yakko shrugged, the scrolls disappearing. “Private tutors and art references are hard to come by when you’re stuck in a lamp.”

Then Dot burst into laughter, Jaspinky chortling alongside her as her shoulders rapidly bounced up and down. She lightly struck the railing with her fist multiple times. There were tears again, but they came from joy rather than sadness.

“Those—ha! I can’t—Yakko, you really captured my good side…but oh my gosh-“ Dot could barely speak between breaths, a huge smile breaking out on her face.

Yakko winked at her. “Figured that would snap you outta it.”

Dot just hugged him back, and Yakko let out another ‘oomph’ as tiny yet strong arms encircled him. “Geez, what do you mice feed these kids?” he wheezed.

Jaspinky stood up, dusting his clothes off and trying a small test jump. “Zort! Brainladdin, catch me!”

A mass of fur, clothing, and narf crashed into Brainladdin, knocking him to the ground with no chance to prepare. He spat out a tassel from Jaspinky’s sleeve. The princess was way too cheerful about his impromptu belly flop.

Then Jaspinky sprang back up, helping Brainladdin to his feet as well. “Dot, I’m really happy to be your friend,” Jaspinky said. “But if Yakko doesn’t mind, I think it would be amazingly fun and wonderful if you could see the world for yourself.”

“Course I don’t mind!” Yakko exclaimed as he threw Dot into the air and caught her. “I’ll have to redo my travel itinerary, but it’ll be more fun that way! If I put Tahiti before Pennsylvania, we can go snorkeling with dolphins on a nice sunny Friday, no hold on a sec, China should be first cause it’s been way too long since I’ve had dumplings, and Greece can-“

“YAKKO, HOLD ON A SEC!” Dot shouted just as Yakko prepared to throw her again. She dangled somewhat precariously next to Yakko’s legs, but she didn’t seem to mind her position all that much.

It surprised Brainladdin that Yakko was willing to accept a new responsibility so readily, and he caught the wistful look on Wakko’s face when Yakko happily declared he’d love company on his trip, but he knew Wakko wouldn’t accept. From Dot’s forlorn expression as she glanced at Jaspinky, she wouldn’t take her chance either.

ACMEbah had a way of robbing everyone of a happy childhood. It appeared sadly common to every social class.

“I don’t take orders from anyone, not even princesses,” Dot growled. “And I’m not leaving you to the tender mercies of the Sultan-CEO or anyone who just wants a pretty face with money, Jaspinky.”

But Jaspinky shook his head. “You won’t have to worry about me though. Cause I’ll live in the city with Brainladdin and Wakko. So I won’t be alone!”

What? That is possibly the least reassuring thing you could’ve said right now, idiot!

Dot’s expression turned stormy. She was thinking along the same lines too.

“Did-did I say something wrong?” Jaspinky’s ears drooped. “I can do some good in the city. I-I never knew things were so bad. And I wanna help.”

“Put that fluff between your ears to use and think, Jaspinky!” Brainladdin snapped. Jaspinky’s mouth quivered. Brainladdin took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten before clasping Jaspinky’s hands between his own. “I…I’m sorry. For my outburst. But remind yourself of our first meeting in the marketplace. You meant well when you took the apple off the fruit stand and gave it to Wakko, but you barely understood the concepts of money and payment, and you completely froze when the shopkeeper barbarically tried to chop off your hand.”

“You saved me though,” Jaspinky said.

“Yes, but if the shopkeeper had been faster with his sword? If I was too far to help you? And your lack of a disguise was another issue. You waltzed into the marketplace with all your finery and no protection. Someone would notice eventually. The best case scenario? Your clothes and jewelry would’ve been stolen, but that’s all. And if someone chose to kidnap you for ransom or worse, the palace and royal guards would’ve been in an uproar. If that hypothetical situation came to pass, guess which group would be suspected first.”

“N-no,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I-I didn’t mean-“

“I know why you did though. You weren’t malicious, just naïve. There’s nothing to apologize for or forgive.” Brainladdin pulled Jaspinky’s head down until their cheeks touched. Jaspinky’s fur was a different sort of warm, not blistering hot like the desert sun, but more of a soft ray of light.

The princess had walked among the commoners for the same reason Brainladdin had disguised himself as a prince. Because he’d felt trapped by a societal role and just wanted to be free.

“Brainladdin?” Jaspinky’s voice was oddly distant.

“If you leave the safety of the palace—if they realize you’ve taken the lifestyle of a common street rat—they’ll hate you. Nobody will see you. But you’ll be blamed. For things you didn’t do…or just for trying to survive. And you’ll lose your good heart, Jaspinky. I can’t even protect Wakko from the consequences. But he’s already figured out some of it. So please…don’t…l-leave…”

Don’t leave the palace…don’t leave me…

Wakko’s hand rested against Brainladdin’s back. The child was always too generous for his own good. It was a quality that Brainladdin couldn’t bring himself to force Wakko to lose, as much as it was a detriment to his survival.

Brainladdin’s vision blurred, and he felt water leak out of his eyes against his will. He was going to die of dehydration at this rate. Jaspinky nuzzled his cheek, humming a meaningless tune into his ear.

The magic carpet ride had been one of the most awe-inspiring experiences of his life. Soft fabric beneath them, close quarters necessitating physical contact, a navy starlit sky above. Being weightless, being free from the worry of scavenging for scraps or taking over ACMEbah, being able to see the wonder in Jaspinky’s eyes as he touched a cloud for the first time…

They weren’t Brainladdin the street rat and Princess Jaspinky in the sky. No, there were no statuses to worry about, no pressures to conform to.

Jaspinky petting a wild horse as it galloped across the land. The stars twinkling in Jaspinky’s eyes. His excitement when he experienced something he’d never seen or done before.

Yet it would be nothing more than a wistful memory.

“They’re still trapped, you know. There’s gotta be something we can do,” a quiet voice said.

Wakko.

“Jaspinky. Brainladdin. You guys really love each other, don’t you?” Dot asked.

Brainladdin wiped his tears on his vest, not caring that it was one of the few pieces of clothing he owned. He looked up at Dot, who was seated on Yakko’s shoulders.

She’d been nothing more than an irritating obstacle when he tried to woo Jaspinky. But if it weren’t for her presence, Jaspinky likely would’ve been married to someone he didn’t love.

He really couldn’t fault her for hating the made-up Prince Brainli.

“He’s my world,” Brainladdin whispered, his voice barely audible, even to himself. He gave Jaspinky a tiny nuzzle, and Jaspinky’s tail intertwined with his own once again.

“And mine too,” Jaspinky agreed.  

Dot watched them for just a moment longer. Then her back straightened, her head tilting proudly. Her foot tapped against Yakko’s chest.

“As someone who’s secretly observed the Sultan-CEO’s political meetings and learned the do’s and don’ts of palace business, I’m the most qualified one here for the position of temporary Sultan-CEO,” she declared. “Yakko. A scroll and quill, if you please.”

Yakko grinned, and the requested items appeared. “Your wish is my command.”

“Thank you,” Dot said with a firm nod.

Brainladdin glanced at Jaspinky and Wakko, but they seemed just as confused as he was. He wasn’t sure if one could just declare themselves Sultan-CEO. That wasn’t really how it worked.

“I, acting Sultan-CEO Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third, also known as Dot, hereby decree that the Royal Marriage Law of 1175 is null and void, and from this day forth, the princess of ACMEbah shall marry whoever they deem worthy.”

The quill jotted Dot’s decree word for word on the scroll, every letter emblazoned with a golden shine.

“Now for the seal of approval!” Dot shouted.

Another flash of magic transformed Wakko into a black and white seal, the scroll was brought down to his nose level, and he gave the paper a large, slobbery lick. Then he clapped, his flippers beating together as Yakko tossed several fish fillets into his mouth.

Then the scroll disappeared, and Wakko transformed back, white bits of fish still coating his mouth.

“This new decree is non-negotiable and binding,” Yakko said. “And I’ve also taken the liberty of framing, enlarging, and sticking it in a palace hallway our dear power-hungry Sultan-CEO frequents. She won’t be able to remove it no matter how hard she tries.”  

As if on cue, there was a distant horrified scream that practically blew one of the domed roofs of the palace off.

What just happened? She can really do that?

Jaspinky squealed in glee, right next to Brainladdin’s ear. He barely had time to rub the sensitive hairs before Jaspinky lifted him into the air and spun him around so fast that he saw more stars than the sun in broad daylight. And they were absolutely beautiful.

“I choose you, Brainladdin!” Jaspinky exclaimed. His laughter was like a melody, Brainladdin losing himself in the music, and he was probably grinning like a fool too but he no longer cared about that because he could be with Jaspinky, and there was an entire world for them and them alone!

Brainladdin clung to Jaspinky’s shoulders, steadying himself as Jaspinky set him down again. He brushed Pinky’s jewelry out of the way, and Jaspinky pressed his forehead against his own.

“Call me Brain,” Brainladdin murmured, and he held Jaspinky close.  

They were no longer trapped. They were free. They could be together.

His heart quickened, and it was an exhilarating feeling indeed.

“Alright, everyone into the group hug!” Yakko shouted, and a giant hand scooped them up. Brainladdin was instantly sandwiched between Jaspinky and Wakko, Dot squeezing herself into the crook of Yakko’s arm on Jaspinky’s opposite side. It was getting hard to breathe, but he couldn’t tell if that was from the force of Yakko’s hug or a side effect of the emotionally charged atmosphere. “Now that we’re all done baring our souls.”

“Thank you, Dot!” Jaspinky exclaimed, hugging the girl’s cheek. “Thankyousomuch! And now that I’ve got Brainladdin staying with me, you should go with Yakko! No ifs or buts, young lady!”

Dot smirked. “You just wanna get rid of me so you can do stuff with Brainladdin.” There was something sneaky in her voice that Brainladdin heavily disliked. “But I’ll gladly take this vacation.”

“I could never get rid of you, Dot! You’re my best handmaiden!” Jaspinky protested.

“Simmer, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin said, and the princess relaxed. “She’s only teasing. That being said, I highly detest her tone.”

He gave Dot a pointed glare, and she casually placed her elbow against Yakko’s arm. “You’re not a complete jerk, but if I were as bigheaded as you, I’d avoid most of the rooms on the southern side. I still haven’t disabled the booby trapped perfume bottles that spray catfish guts yet. You’ll be mostly safe on the east side though.”  

“And you’re not a complete brat. Just an annoyingly clever one,” he muttered.  

Dot looked all too pleased with herself.

At least he’d finally confirmed who rigged that perfume bottle on his second night as Prince Brainli in the palace.

“Perfect!” Yakko exclaimed, and confetti showered down on everyone. “So any particular places in mind? A change of scenery would do you some good!”

“Burbank. Machu Picchu. Rome,” Dot said. “I’ll come up with more later. You got any ideas, Wakko?”

Wakko shook his head, only staring at the ground far below them.

“Wakko? Wakster? Wakaroo?” Yakko frowned, gently shaking Wakko, who only went limp. “C’mon, we know you’ve got places you wanna visit. Mostly for the exotic food, right?”

“Sorry. I’d love to go, but-“ Wakko’s face fell.

This wasn’t like before, where Brainladdin refused to let Wakko venture outside ACMEbah. Now neither of them would be alone in this world.

“Look at me, Wakko.” Brainladdin held onto one of Wakko’s fingers with both hands, and the boy obeyed. “As the soon-to-be ruler of ACMEbah, I will be living in the palace with Jaspinky. There’s no more need for concern. And you have a somewhat responsible brother and an irritatingly capable sister who will always have your back. Your new objective is to explore the world for yourself, and if you try to send money back or work yourself to the bone, I shall have to ground you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Wakko snatched him up for an enormous hug. Brainladdin gasped for air, fairly certain one lung was punctured and his left kidney had been knocked out of place from the tight squeeze.

“Oxygen!” he wheezed. Wakko relented and returned him to Jaspinky, who was more of a white and blue blur than a mouse right now.

“Faboo, Dad!” Wakko exclaimed, much to Yakko and Dot’s joy.

“Yes, faboo indeed,” Brainladdin muttered, a dizzy spell from the lack of oxygen overtaking him. He slumped against Jaspinky. “I expect a letter every night, Wakko.”

If Wakko replied, his voice was lost in Yakko and Dot’s chatter over their travel plans. Brainladdin and Jaspinky were deposited on the balcony, Brainladdin finally recovering his vision so he could see the siblings off.

“Bye-bye! Bring back souvenirs! Troz!” Jaspinky shouted, his jewelry jingling as he waved goodbye to the siblings.

“Farewell for now,” Brainladdin said, crossing his arms over his chest. Best to act like he was ruling ACMEbah after all. He tried not to squeeze too tightly, if only to stop the slight ache in his chest from all this emotional nonsense.  

“You heard them! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Yakko shouted, and he shot into the sky like a firework with Wakko and Dot in his arms. The two screamed in delight, their laughter echoing off the buildings of ACMEbah. “Let’s give the lovebirds some space!”

“We’re history!” Dot yelled.

“We’re mythology!” Wakko added.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT WE ARE! WE’RE FREE!”

In a shower of magic, they shot across the sky and were gone, off to tour the world to celebrate their new lives.

Jaspinky waved to the sky for a moment longer, then turned to Brainladdin, that stupid, silly, wonderful smile on his face. “I’ve got sweetcakes and tea in the kitchen. Do you want any?”

Brainladdin rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Jaspinky.”

They headed to the kitchen, walking hand-in-hand, never to be separated again.

o-o-o-o-o

Colorful fireworks burst around them, lighting up the night sky in flares of red and green and blue. The stars shone from above, the earth and all its worries far beneath them. A breeze tugged them along, the magic carpet pulling this way and that with no clear destination in mind. But they didn’t need one.

Whichever way the winds blow, as they say.

“Look, Brainladdin! Another letter!” Jaspinky pointed to a paper drifting towards them, protected by a cloud of Yakko’s magic. He leaned over the side in his excitement to grab it out of the air. Brainladdin kept hold of Jaspinky’s tail just in case, though the magic carpet was sentient enough to lift that side up to prevent accidental falls. The letter floated into Pinky’s hand, and he scrambled back to Brainladdin, showing off the letter proudly. “It’s a J! Wakko’s very good with oregano. I wish he’d teach me!”

He really should’ve been more clear with his expectations for Wakko.  

“That’s a Y, Jaspinky. And oregano is a spice. This is the paper craft known as origami.” Brainladdin tucked the Y inside the folds of his royal robe for safekeeping. It would go nicely with the W and D that were already on his nightstand.

“Oh. Well then, it’s a very nice Y!”

“Yes, it’s constructed well.”

Another firework flared, and Jaspinky oohed and awwed at the wondrous sight, his eyes ever an innocent, pretty blue. He’d picked a new outfit for tonight: a purple crop top with matching pants and headband, a see through, puffy material that framed his bare shoulders wonderfully, and golden earrings.

The fireworks paled in comparison.

Jaspinky gasped in awe. “Look, Brainladdin! A shooting star! What’d you wish for?”

Brainladdin glanced at the canopy above, where a meteor shower zipped through the upper atmosphere. “You first.”

“Narf! Alright. I wished for a world where we can all be happy! Your turn!”

Sentimental, yet thoughtful. Of course.  

“I wish…for our lives to be fulfilling.”

Jaspinky smiled. “Looks like our wishes came true then.”

“An astute observation,” Brainladdin said.  

Jaspinky kissed him, and warmth flooded through Brainladdin’s body. They soared into the starry horizon, the full moon shining from afar. A new world awaited them.

AN: This…uh…this is way longer than I intended it to be. I hope you enjoyed this story. This is my first time writing the Warner siblings, so I combined some of the posts Deez-art made about this AU for my characterization of them. I apologize if they were out of character, but I did have fun with them. Especially Dot. For some reason her dialogue is just fun to write.

Also, Brain angsts too easily. That’s why this story is almost 7000 words.

Some of the dialogue comes directly from the 1992 Aladdin movie.

I HAVE LISTENED TO A WHOLE NEW WORLD HOW MANY TIMES FOR THIS STORY. THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME I’VE DONE THIS EITHER. I NEED NEW LOVE SONGS.

As for why this story is published on AO3 instead of FFN, it’s just easier to tag this sort of thing there.

[deniigi]

Trope: Homeless Peter

Title: what is home if not a vehicle

Summary: Space-fish attack the Great State of New York, and in the mess, the Avengers lose the goddamn kid.

------------

His knees shook when he finally peeled back the helmet and it was a monumental task—the towering, marble kind—to lift one foot and then the other out of the footwell of the suit stand.

But Tony managed it.

You know, like a fuckin’ superhero.

He had this.

He maybe had a head injury and couldn’t see through all the blood dripping down his right eye—but you know what?

A fuckin’ superhero.

That’s me.

Ahahaha—

“TONY.”

Why hello, adoring fan. What a coincidence to meet you on the floor like this.

“What are you doing?”

Having a little lay down, my dear.

“GET UP.”

Wow, that’s a tone to take with a guy who volunteered to be the can in a state-wide Alien Kick-the-Can tournament. A little appreciation would be nice.

“Tony,” Pepper emphasized. “You need to get up.”

Why? Was there another alien? Tony was having a merry time here on the floor. Only more superheroing could move him, and even that was on thin ice given the whole knobbly-knee, shaky-hands situation.

“Peter’s gone.”

Tony’s head shot up.

“He’s not gone,” he said. “He’s with Falcon.”

Pepper’s eyes were very blue and ringed by white on every side.

“No,” she said. “He’s gone. Get. Up.”

 --

Pepper’s hands came around and grabbed his face before he could get another good smash in for it on the desk in front of him.

May Parker was in tears. She had every right to be. Cap was consoling her, promising her that they would find Peter while she fanned her dripping mascara.

And Tony?

Tony was exhausted. And now he had that weird gut-gnawing, gurgling feeling in his stomach, which, combined with the head injury that he was turning slowly into an actual hole straight to his brain (if Pepper would let go, anyways), was paving the way for a future spent at the foot of the porcelain altar.

The kid. Had been. RIGHT. There.

Rhodey had confirmed this. He’d been RIGHT there. Tony had been keeping an eye on him and all that bouncy puppy energy. And when he could no longer do that (see: volunteering to be bait, also known as An Activity Not Appropriate for Minors to Witness), he’d handed him off to Sam.

He’d handed him off to Sam.

Sam was the second most level-headed person on the entire team. Rhodey was the first, and okay, he was mostly first because Tony was biased towards his best friend, but the point remained.

Sam had had the baby.

Sam said that he had had the baby, too. Until he couldn’t have the baby because A) the baby was very slippery and B) the baby apparently smelled like food to giant alien creatures with blue glowing tongues and drippy teeth, and so Sam had sent the baby far the fuck away from that action.

He’d told him to go give Bruce support in the north of the city.

Bruce had tears in his eyes when he said that he’d worked with Peter for a whole fifteen minutes before they’d gotten separated by a building collapsing nearly on top of them. The Hulk didn’t have time to babysit Spiders when that was happening. The Hulk just got angry and launched himself at the face of the fuckin’ space-kaiju that had caused it.

No one could fault him for this.

But that also meant that, two hours into a 48 hour melee, they’d lost the youngest team member.

May Parker was glued to her phone and the news, and Tony could hear the tinny voice of Peter’s voice message echoing out of her phone even from there, even through her hiccups and Steve’s soothing Captain America tones.

Steve said that Peter was a smart boy. He was a strong boy. He’d know that they were looking for him and he’d done way, way worse than two days of fighting before. He’d know when to find a safe place and stay put for long enough to regain his energy.

And more than that, he knew New York like the back of his hand. He’d come home, May.

He’d come home.

Tony was about to swear to this poor woman that he would personally deliver her child to her doorstep when the klaxons crashed through the building and sent Tony’s whole body into a state of temporary numbness with pain.

The room went red.

The room went red again

Everyone turned slowly towards the window and Tony barely saw Steve throwing up the shield and reaching for May Parker at the same time before he reacted.

Pepper went down under the desk.

The glass exploded.

And here we go again.

 ---

 Just for the record—just for the fucking record—Tony wanted it known that he hated Albany.

It was flat.

Its skyline was boring as hell.

And Tony was 99.9% sure that there a mass illness among the people of this city.

Rhodey informed him that he was only thinking that because his interactions with humanity at street level came from New Yorkers and Los Angeles folks, neither of whom could find it in their souls to give a shit about what other people shouted at them.

Rhodey further explained patiently that the reaction of most people in the continental US to a known superhero telling them to get the fuck out of the way was not, in fact, being told ‘no YOU move, motherfucker.’

Tony didn’t get it.

Steve laughed so hard he sort of collapsed onto Sam’s shoulder and started making this sound that reminded Tony of a sob.

They all needed sleep. It had been four days.

But then, like a champion of all 8-year-olds, a little girl piped up from somewhere in the crowd that had gathered around their Avengers team huddle, “Hey! Where’s Spiderman?”

And all bodies went from sobbing to swearing.

The damn kid.

 ---

 It had been a week. May Parker had filed Peter as missing. He still hadn’t come home and he wasn’t even close to getting home because Tony had just gotten a call from Wolver-fucking-ine himself asking if he knew Baby Webs.

“He downed a space-fish in Gloversville,” Wolverine said. “And Scott nearly swiped him up, but he ain’t moved fast enough, and Websy noticed him first. He went and hid in the sewer and kept hissing at us for hours. Tried to feed him, but he wants nothin’ to do with us.”

Peter.

Peter, no.

X-men are friends.

“Did you manage to grab him?” Tony asked, already resigned to the answer.

“He ran off.”

Fuck.

“Sorry about that.”

Fuck.

“He’s a bitty one, ain’t he?”

“He’s fifteen.”

“Jesus.”

“I know,” Tony said. “We’re trying to grab him. It’s been a week. His phone’s dead and his mom’s freaking out, and I swear, he’s never been that far out of a city.”

Wolverine made a contemplative sound.

“Alright, we’ll keep a better eye out,” he said. “He can’t have gone far. He ain’t swingin’ with that web shit.”

He must have run out of that, too.

Peter, honey. Just. Stand. Still.

Forget the space-fish. For like, two hours.

 ---

 May asked Pepper to ask Tony what felt like ages later if the X-men had any more information on her kid. Pepper said that she sounded defeated.

Tony wished that he had more to give her besides a handful of blood from the torn skin on his hip and the words that Scott Summers had passed along just the day previous.

“The kid followed the last fish out,” Summers said. “I’m sorry, Stark. I tried to nab him, but that thing was taking down trees and we all got buried.”

 ---

 Two weeks.

Two whole weeks the boy had been missing and only now were the space-fish starting to let up. Part of that had to do with the fact that Barton had figured out that if you went for the eyes, forsook any sense of self-preservation and decency, and climbed into the gaping hole you left there, you could smash the thing’s brain and take it down to earth like Cap nose-diving into the Atlantic.

Steve had passed through all the stages of grief into hysteria this last week.

No one could talk to him because he started laughing and then weeping in a span of 15 seconds.

Natasha and Sam were on it.

Barnes was out with Barton, laying waste to wading pool that was Rochester at the moment. And that finally gave Tony the time that he needed to go out and search for the kid.

Rhodey came with and they ended up in Horseheads of all places, asking people on the street if they’d seen a Spiderman approximately a half the size they expected him to be.

People in Horseheads said no, that was Buffalo that had had the Spiderchild flinging himself around in it.

So they headed for Buffalo, only to get a message halfway there from Barnes that he’d almost caught the little shit in Rochester. Barton was after him as they spoke.

On foot apparently.

“He looks like shit, Stark,” Barnes said, huffing while he ran. “Clint’s on his tail now though, but I think he thinks he’s in trouble, so he’s—WAIT NO. BARTON.”

And the line went off.

And Rhodey groaned for both of them.

 ----

 Rochester contained a very wet, very frustrated Hawkeye and zero Bucky Barneses.

Hawkeye said that they’d nearly had Peter. But then.

He gestured furiously out to the harbor which was full of wreckage from the ensuing battle on shore.

Tony asked him if they had it handled or if they needed backup, to which Hawkeye said that only God knew shit at this point. He was just a human football, being punted back and forth across the state of New York in a way that his soul truly deserved.

Barton perhaps needed both a nap and a meal or two in him.

Peter probably needed days of both of those things.

“Yeah, no. I asked around and people have seen him bopping around the pigeons and gulls,” Barton said. “Some lady told us that she saw him coming out of a park bathroom. Another gal said she saw him tucked up on a roof and lured him down. She said she thought he was some homeless teenager and was worried ‘cause he was up there without a coat. She was surprised as hell when he was the real thing and asked her for a map. Said his phone was busted and he was trying to find the train station.”

Kiddo.

“He’s makin’ it, Stark,” Barton said. “Not sure how. But he’s makin’ it.”

That wasn’t comforting.

 ---

 Chasing after Peter wasn’t working. He kept slipping through their fingers and getting startled by people chasing him.

He seemed a little paranoid. Although that was probably because folks had started to change tact and approach him out of their suits.

They’d skimmed right past the part where Peter didn’t really know most of them out of their suits. And then they’d skimmed right past the part where most of them, out of their suits, didn’t look anything like the pictures that the paps took of them.

JB’s hair was long as hell. Natasha wore little make up and didn’t both straightening her ginger mane. Sam’s fade was looking a little lopsided with the piece of glass that the docs had had to dig out of it, and so a hat was his primary mode of fashion at the moment. Steve’s out-of-suit fashion could be described as ‘Jock with Tats Wears Cardigan and Dock Martins. More at 11.’

They’d all gone too far into being people and Peter now thought that he was being pursued by undercover SHIELD agents.

And, like the genius child that he was, he’d realized that his reds were catching attention and, now that the space-fish were a less pressing issue, and now that he was up in colder climes, he’d swapped them for some street clothes. And now no one had seen Spiderman.

Including the other Avengers.

The fastest way to find him was through facial recognition software, but someone out there, infuriatingly, seemed to be teaching Peter how to live like this.

The features Tony put in everyone’s new chunky glasses only ever caught him just before he turned tail and started sprinting.

And goddamn, that kid was fast.

Tony himself had chased him through Nowheresville, Fuck This State, and even that seemed ineffective.

He didn’t understand.

Peter knew who he was. He knew his voice.

Right?

Why was he running? Why was he still running?

May thought that he must have gotten it into his head that everyone was furious with him. She said that Peter’s guilt complex was wide and deep and he often slunk home late and hid from her if he thought she was mad.

He wasn’t super great with confrontation outside of his red and blues.

But something was also going on with May. Tony wasn’t sure what it was until Barton came into his lab where Tony was bouncing between trying to find where Peter’s suit had last been and trying to pry the enormous scales off a space-fish head.

“Tony,” Barton said. “Mrs. Parker’s lost faith in us.”

Tony laid his head against the scaly mass in front of him and sighed.

“You know what? That’s fair,” he said.

If some of the world’s so-called finest couldn’t even catch a literal child after three weeks of trying, Tony would have said that they were a bunch of useless fucks, too.

“She came to me and asked me if I’d help her try something different,” Barton said. “So I’m gonna need you to trust me, man.”

Trust him?

Sure, why not?

At this point, nothing Tony or Rhodey or Natasha tried had worked. So why not Barton? He was the one who kept getting the closest to the kid.

He had his own little menace he was chasing around anyways. He knew this shit.

“Glad you think so,” Barton said. “But I need like, a written agreement that you ain’t gonna scream at me, okay?”

Written agreement. Pft. Okay.

 ---

 “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?”

Barton stared at Tony and pointed at Rhodey like a tattle-tell. Tony was exhausted.

“TONY.”

He was so tired, Rhodey.

“You cannot sanction this,” Rhodey said.

Tony wasn’t sanctioning anything. He was just letting the aunt take the reins.

“We are not sending the Punisher after a child,” Rhodey said.

“The jokes on you, bub,” Clint told him. “The Punisher is already keeping an eye out for the child and you know what? He’s got a bite.”

Silence flooded the meeting room. Sam Wilson turned around slowly in his chest and moved his icepack to the other hand.

“Say that again,” he said.

Barnes’s eyes went huge like a cat and Nat leaned her elbows onto his shoulders.

“I said,” Barton scoffed at them, “The Punisher’s still upstate. I sent him a text explaining shit. He’s got a soft spot for babies. You know, latent dad instincts and all that, and he’s been homeless for like, years now. So he said he’ll keep an eye out. He’s got an idea of a few places where kids around Peter’s age go when they’ve got nowhere else to.”

Tony stomped down on the urge to say that Peter wasn’t like those kids; he did have a place to go. He was just misunderstanding the situation. He was just fifteen and tired and not thinking logically. Translating people chasing him as anger instead of help.

Man, all those straight As really put that kid’s fear of abandonment into perspective now.

Tony didn’t even know how to approach him anymore.

He wasn’t a dad. No one on this team was a dad. They didn’t know how to talk to kids. Or if they did, not teenagers.

So you know what?

If the Punisher thought he could grab the kid, then he should.

 ----

 And the Punisher did.

Tony had never spoken directly to the man. The whole team went silent when Barton answered the call and then said, “hold on, let me put you on speaker.”

The Punisher’s voice was husky and hoarse with his whisper.

“Got him,” he said softly.

Tony covered his eyes in relief.

“He’s sleepin’,” The Punisher said. “Real adaptable. You weren’t kiddin’, Barton.”

“Thank god,” Steve said.

“He hurt?” Barton asked.

“Yeah,” the Punisher said. “He ain’t let me look ‘im over, but he’s got scabs all over. Cute kid. Once we were on the same page, he came willingly enough.”

What did that mean?

“Means I had to find some vegetarian shit from McDonalds,” the Punisher said like Tony was an idiot. “Kid’s hungry. Cold. Needs a bath. Found him tucked up with some others. They ain’t wanna come like him. But they’re good kids with good folks; they told him that if he had someone waiting on him, he should go.”

They’d done what?

The Punisher snorted.

“Homeless folks aren’t stupid, moneybags,” he said. “They got problems, but they aren’t stupid. And they ain’t want my help, so that’s that. You give ‘em some money and let ‘em do what they need to.”

What.

“I know, it’s almost like their lives ain’t your business,” the Punisher huffed.

He was kind of a dick.

“You headed back this way?” Barton asked.

“That’s a negative,” the Punisher said.

Rhodey went stiff.

“But don’t worry, I got someone to leave him with when I get to where I’m goin’,” the Punisher said. “He’ll bring him down your way.”

Barton sighed.

“Thanks, Frank,” he said. “We owe you one.”

“I don’t want your debt,” the Punisher said. He said nothing.

“I owe you one,” Barton corrected.

“Damn right, you do, Sparky.”

“Collect when you’re ready,” Barton said.

“Copy that.”

Barton hung up and stared with crystal eyes into Tony soul.

“Someone tell the kid’s aunt,” he said.

 ---

 The Punisher went up to Niagara Falls, whereupon he handed Peter off to Deadpool.

Tony almost had a stroke.

May Parker slapped a hand onto her chest and sighed in relief.

“Thank god,” she said.

Thank god?

More like, god have mercy, no?

“No, thank god,” May said.

May had Deadpool’s number in her goddamn phone. Tony was dumbfounded.

“Eyyyyyy,” Deadpool cheered when he answered May’s call. “Well, look who it is. Pete—heya babycakes, you—? Okay, no. Sorry, we had a big day at the falls. He’s tired.”

Deadpool cackled. May huffed out a chuckle and shook her head.

“Thank you, Wade,” she said tearfully. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Deadpool said cheerfully. “Little Scrappy’s just scrappier. He ain’t hurt bad. Just a little shaken. Got that good anxiety. Six kinds of paranoia, look at ‘im go. That’s healthy, that’s what that is.”

It was not, Mr. Pool.

“Who’s makin’ that racket in the background?” Deadpool asked.

May explained that she was in the company of the Avengers. She did not say that half of them were shocked stupid. She did not say that Rhodey was clawing his hands at the sky and lamenting a career in military service being useless compared to fuckin’ Deadpool’s sunny disposition.

“Ah,” Deadpool said. “Well, I’m just gonna not say shit to him about that.”

“That’s fine,” May said. “Tell him I love him and I’m not mad. I’ve just been worried. Where’s his phone?”

“Oh, honey. You should see it. Kid fished it out of the sea,” Deadpool said. “I found a fuckin’ barnacle in it. Pretty impressive how small them things get, you know what I mean?”

Somehow, May did. Even though Tony emphatically did not.

“How long?” she asked.

“Ehn. Well. I got a job . Then I’m meeting someone in Syracuse. But you know what’s good news?”

“What?” May asked.

“Red’s at a conference in Ithaca,” Deadpool said. “He said he can swipe Spiderkid up from the bus station.”

Red?

Who was Red?

“You serious right now, DP?” Barnes asked.

“Ohhhh, why hello there, Winter. Didn’t see you there,” Deadpool said. “I am indeed serious. I’ll put the kid on a bus to Cornell or where the fuck ever and our Hornheaded friend will grab him before he scurries off to the wind again. He’ll be fine. Car rides are lullabies to him.”

May seemed touched.

“I’ll wire you the money, Wade,” she said.

“Huh? Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. I’m puttin’ it in the favor box,” Deadpool said. “Barnesy, my boy. Red hates everything upstate and his boo-bear’s got family they’re gonna visit in Poughkeepsie. Can one of you darling blockheads meet him up there to take the kid, so he doesn’t ruin his one and only chance at marriage?”

What.

The fuck.

Was happening?

“Uuuuh, when? Tomorrow?” Barton asked.

“Two days from now,” Deadpool said. “If you can’t, don’t sweat it. I got a gal who’s willing to pick him up.”

“I can go as far as Paterson,” Barnes said out of nowhere. “If your gal can bring him down that far, that’d be good. I’ll bring the bike.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun,” Deadpool said. “Totally doable. I’ll give her a call and send you an address. Thanks a million, Winter.”

Barnes sniffed.

“It’s cool. Show him a picture of me so he ain’t bolt again,” he said.

“Copy that,” DP said. “I’ll let him know what you said, May. Bye for now.”

He hung up.

May Parker deflated into a puddle of relief.

Tony still didn’t know what was happening.

“Wilson’s gonna hand the kid off to Daredevil,” Barton explained. “And DD will take him with him to Poughkeepsie, where Wilson’s contact—the fuck is her name, Barnes?”

“Domino,” Barnes said.

“That’s the one,” Barton said. “She’ll pick him up, probably with Summers, and bring him down to Paterson and then Barnes’ll go grab him from there and bring him home.”

That—

Wh—

Why couldn’t they, the Avengers, have orchestrated this? This was not hard. This was advanced Connect Four.

“Sometimes, you can’t think like a hero,” Barton told him. “You gotta think like a vigilante.”

 ---

 Peter came home. Barnes swept him up from the station in Paterson and tossed him over a shoulder. And Tony came into the medical bay as soon as he got word of their arrival to find him sprawled out there still, asking Barnes a thousand questions about fuckin’ heroin.

God, lord, Jesus.

Someone spare Tony’s soul.

Peter noticed him and reacted by slipping off Barnes’s shoulder and hiding behind him as though he expected Tony to start shouting at any moment.

And for a moment, Tony almost felt like he should have.

But he wasn’t Peter’s dad. And Peter hadn’t done that shit on purpose. He’d just been scared and when he got scared, he’d decided to turn towards people he knew he could trust.

The other street level guys. People like him.

Tony couldn’t be angry with him for that.

So he came over and collapsed into the chair next to Peter’s assigned bed and held out his arms.

“Hugs for an old man?” he asked.

Peter peeked out from behind Barnes and lit up.

His hug was crushing. His clothes were rank and his wrists looked skinny and he was as pale as Tony had ever seen him, but he was here.

And he was chillin’.

“Next time, just stay in the city, alright?” Tony said. “We got the state. You got the city. At least until you’re old enough to have your own credit card, yeah?”

“Kay,” Peter hummed.

“You scared the shit out of us, kiddo.”

Peter pulled away from him and hopped back up on the bed.

“Is my aunt coming?” he asked.

Tony sighed.

She was.

“Cool, I missed her. My phone broke and maps are hard. I got like four of them. Folks kept givin’ theirs to me, even though I needed like, money.”

Tony leaned forward and held his face in his hands.

“Yeah?” he finally managed to say.

“Yeah,” Peter hummed. “It’s really hard to get a bus with no money. And they don’t even have buses in a lot of places, you know? Like, Uber isn’t even a thing out there. You’ve just gotta have a car or know someone who does.”

Bless.

“Wade says that I’m a city boy.”

That’s ‘cause you are, child.

“But I slept in a tree, so that’s camping.”

It’s not.

“And there was a raccoon. So that’s camping.”

It’s really, really not.

“I saw Cyclops and he tried to laser-eyes me, but, get this, I Lizard-ed him. Went into the sewers like Connors. I mean, he’s a jerk, but he’s definitely right to stick to the sewers. It’s warm down there. Can you imagine if the X-men X-manned me, though? Wade says that they do that to people.”

Tony was melting.

“They definitely do that to people,” Barnes said.

Vigilantes, man. The lies they spread.

“I made some friends in Buffalo,” Peter carried on. “They’re nice. They used to live in Rochester. They saw me fighting a space-fish, and they said that was cool as hell. And so they were tellin’ me about garbage plates and then Chelsea’s mom told me I needed to go home because May probably wasn’t mad and it was getting too cold. And then she made me promise not to do drugs. And when Mr. Castle showed up, she waved him down—I like her a lot. I gave them my money so that they could sleep in the shelter and I think Mr. Castle gave her more money, but he gave me and Chelsea McDonalds. And it was like, so good, Mr. Stark. I forgot how much I like McDonalds.”

Fuckin’ garbage plates.

“I’m gonna make one,” Peter hummed.

Someone come take these kid home already.

 ----------------------------------

Problems I have with the Trope:

So I don’t know the homeless Peter trope very well, but I don’t love it because in order to write it, you have to remove May from the picture, pretty much entirely. Folks either tend to kill her or make her abusive and that’s fucked up to do to, not only Peter’s remaining family member, but to a civilian female character.

I also don’t love this trope because I don’t love Irondad and the homeless Peter trope is pretty much designed for him to be saved by Tony.

The third reason I don’t enjoy this trope is because I don’t think enough people do their research on, not only what it takes to become homeless (especially for a minor), but how broad definitions of homelessness are. People who are homeless don’t just live on the street; they live in cars, they couch surf, they work hard to be clean, they have jobs.

And the last reason (for now), that I find this trope difficult is Peter’s age. Age is the hardest shit. A homeless 14-15 yo is kind of difficult to work with because there are layers of safety nets and, if you don’t kill May or make her abusive, it is next to impossible to work through her responsible nature and stability to put her and Pete out on the street plausibly (and I refused to compromise on this, which is how I ended up with this accidental loss). It would be much easier to write a homeless Peter as a college student.

[theroyalmile]

No Returns, No Exchanges

Disclaimer: I have debated for quite a while whether or not I should post this blog.  Social media is such a curated space for joy and happiness, it can feel oppressive at times.  There is so much life-changing positivity, from engagements to new jobs; and don’t get me wrong, that happiness is great to see.  But on the other hand, all of that positivity makes me feel like sharing any kind of negative information is attention-seeking and an immense overshare.  So let’s ask ourselves why I feel that way.  Why is happiness celebrated while the sad, sometimes harsh realities of life are thought to be oversharing?  More specifically, why do we feel like life-changing news can only be shared when it doesn’t make other people uncomfortable?  Our expressions of pain should not be regulated by the comfort levels of the people who surround us.  There comes a time when not sharing something begins to feel like hiding something, and hiding something turns to shame.  That is a feeling that I refuse to welcome into my life right now.  So here we go. 

It has been a while since I posted anything… a really long while.  It has been rare, these past few years, that I have even felt I had anything much to say let alone write anything, mostly because my life has been fairly normal, fairly unextraordinary, and I am rather blessed to be saying that during such a difficult time for so many. The few moments where I have felt like I had something to say have been fleeting, and after a good 2am word vomit on paper, I have filed these musings under “not to be seen by the light of day” which is probably for the best.

 Sometimes in the past I would find myself wishing I had something interesting going on in my life, something worthy of commentary… I don’t know, I was thinking like a cool hobby, an interesting skill, a kick-ass career, or a run in with Tom Hardy like I’d always dreamed of… something.  

 Well, to whoever is in charge, this is not what I meant, and I would like to request a refund. 

 Because as its final parting kick in the ass 2020 decided to gift me with breast cancer.  This isn’t a bad punch line, it’s just the truth.Let me give you a second to process that one.  I certainly needed a few.

 The thing is, a little itty bitty 3-centimeter tumor- that’s not something I can give back, as much as I might want to.  It’s not a too-large sweater you can return with a gift receipt, and it’s not a bad haircut you can complain about and get your money back (though it certainly will include one in a week or so!)

 A lot of you already know this story and frankly it’s not one I can tell with much finesse or humor, so I will keep it brief.  It was a dark and stormy 6pm when I found a lump in my breast in the shower back in November.  My initial thought was “you’re a crazy lady and a hypochondriac, let’s give it a few weeks since this is probably nothing.”   A few weeks, when my imaginary lump seemed to not actually be imaginary, I figured okay, it’s time to see my doctor, it’s probably nothing but we need to make sure.  I was in fact so unconcerned about it that I didn’t even see my regular doctor. I figured I just needed a medical professional to feel me up and let me know what to do next.  I didn’t even bother mentioning it to my parents. (For context of my laissez-faire, when I was 14 I found a lump in my breast that turned out, after little fanfare, to be a cyst which was unceremoniously drained on a cold metal table by a male doctor in a somewhat traumatizing but ultimately benign event.  That’s a longer story for later). 

 Cue a physical exam, confirming I was not crazy and there was a lump, but it was probably nothing; an utltrasound, confirming the lump was a shape that they did not like, but it was probably nothing; and an ultrasound guided biopsy, in which the probably nothing was sampled.  The week between Christmas and New Year’s was spent impatiently waiting for the news, increasingly feeling that my probably nothing was maybe, actually something.

 On December 28 around lunch time I received a phone call in the middle of the work day from the radiologist, who while very nice, was someone I had only met once while she shot a needle in and out of my boob.  She asked me how I was doing and then told me my test results were in.  “I’m sorry to say it’s not good news,” she said.

 And believe it or fucking not my immediate thought was “It’s not good news… it’s great news!” My brain supplied this as if on autopilot like some kind of 90s game show host, knowing fully well that I would not be so lucky because we are not living in a Brooklyn 99 episode.  It’s weird where your brain goes under duress.

 It was one of the most uncomfortable phone calls I have ever had, wherein I found myself trying to reassure a complete stranger that I was okay and I’m pretty sure I even said, “it is what it is.”  I was told a breast surgeon and oncologist from my provider network would be in contact and the call ended. Ultimately, I was diagnosed with Stage 1B Triple Negative Invasive Ductal and Lobular Carcinoma.  No returns, no exchanges.

 I am two months into my diagnosis, and 1/8 of my way through chemotherapy, the first part of a three series treatment (to be followed by surgery and then likely radiation.)  This Friday, after my second chemotherapy treatment, I will begin to lose my hair.  Anyone who knows me at all knows that the hair loss will be a pill likely far harder for me to swallow than the chemo itself.  And while the look may have worked for Demi Moore in GI Jane, I do not have her bone structure, nor her body.  I anticipate I will look more like the yellow peanut M&M, which while obviously the best M&M of the bunch, I think we can all agree is not a cute look for me.

 I do not say this to be melodramatic, I just say this because I am cynical and pragmatic by nature: I am not particularly surprised that I have cancer.  And this is for several reasons, some of which probably deserve a longer blog later.  To put it simply, I have been surrounded by cancer, both by choice and by cruel fate and happenstance, my entire life. 

 Cruel Fate and Happenstance: Having several relatives who have gone through cancer, and a mother with a BRCA 1 genetic mutation (which I had a 50% chance of inheriting, and in fact did) I always figured it would eventually happen to me.  The odds this condition dealt me? “About 13% of women in the general population will develop breast cancer sometime during their lives. By contrast, 55%–72% of women who inherit a harmful BRCA1 variant… will develop breast cancer by 70–80 years of age.”  That 55-72% is the kind of percentage you want winning the lottery, but the lottery this most certainly is not, and that much I understood. So, I always figured something like this would probably happen.  Did I think I would be 28? No. But I figure that just makes me an overachiever. 

 Choice: I volunteered at a cancer support non-profit from the time I was 12 to the time I was 22, and I wrote my college senior thesis in anthropology on women with ovarian cancer, the cancer that killed my aunt Lizzy when I was 4 years old.  I have likely read more books on cancer than your average newly diagnosed person, which I find to be both a blessing and a curse.  On one hand, I know some of what’s coming.  On the other hand, I know some of what’s coming.  Of course I don’t think any of these things gave me cancer but you might say I have been training for this my whole life.  I think this joke is far funnier than pretty much everyone I say it to except my immediate family, because the Tenney/Koss folk are very big on gallows humor, in which case this is hilarious.  Comedy is our family coping mechanism, and I am guilty of occasionally forgetting not everyone is wired like that.   

 So where are we right now? Taking it day by day.  Do I frequently find myself wallowing in self-pity these days? Sure.  But all the same I feel truly lucky.  This is a feeling I am trying to hold on to, because I think the other options might be truly unbearable.  Why? Well, I found this tumor.  I’m 28-years-old, which means I am hardly old enough for a regular mammogram and MRI.  My last yearly physical was a TeleHealth appointment (hence no actual physical) and I will be honest, I never made a habit of regularly checking myself like I should have.  But this tumor just presented itself casually during a shower.  Breast cancer, when caught early, is highly treatable and curable, and I am fairly confident, knock on wood, that is where this particular nightmare is headed.  The fact that it was caught early: pure luck. 

Another reason I feel lucky is for the most part, I feel like I actually have the stability to handle the oncoming struggle.  I have a large and wonderful support system, an incredible and supportive partner, a savings account with actual savings in it, and a job where I am cared about as a human.  If this had happened to me three years ago, almost none of these things would be true.  There will never be a good time to have cancer, but some times are apparently better than others.  Of course, the ongoing pandemic means I can’t have people go with me to chemo, or my wig fitting, or my surgery consultations, and alone a lot of this seems much more daunting and difficult than it might otherwise have been, but I am trying to make a habit of counting my blessings, and despite this terrible thing I’ve been given, my blessings are many.

 There isn’t a “right way” to have cancer, but I think there might be a “right way” for me.  I am a private person and I find sharing some of these details difficult and more than a little uncomfortable, but I am also intimately familiar with the healing nature of writing and comedy, so I am going to give it a shot.  

 And now that I think of it… the peanut M&M is going to make a really great Halloween costume. 

[sw124]

[Lamia-Bitty Daily life!9]

/entitled parents/

Hello my Lamia lovers how are all of you, good I hope. Welp its that time again, a fair warning to everyone who has something that entitled people want. Yes thats right everyone another story about how low humans can sink for things they want.

And this....involves not just my boys but my friend Casey and her boi Zipper, a few others.....and a woman who will do ‘anything’ for her (more spoiled then two month old milk) daughter...even attempt to steal.

Ok folks on with the story:

So Casey had invited me an my boys out to eat with her, Zippy and boyfriend Roy. Now normally I don’t like going out with people but...Casey is a friend and she took the time to invite me. An given the fact I was stuck at home most of the time, an it wouldn’t hurt for my boys to go out too. So I agreed, she said wear something warm like a hoodie (or sweater depending) an to have something for my boys to keep warm with.

Now this was my first time meeting her boyfriend, she told me he’s an Exotic dancer. Yeah, yeah I know get those Magic Mike thoughts going, first time I met him....phew now I see why she likes him so much. He’s got a slender built body, abs you can grate cheese on and-...sorry that’s not important anyway he’s hot we’ll leave it at that. She introduces us and we move to the back, apparently Roy is friends with the owner and other workers here. He secured us a private venue in the back for us and the Lamia’s.

[this is before the lockdown and distancing]

Turns out the whole idea here was the beginning stages of a ‘Lamia party’. Sort of a way for Lamia owners to come together or a way for new people to meet who share a common love of snake like creatures. Right now it was in the planning stages an Casey wanted to start with just us an another individual. The restaurant is a sushi/hibachi place called Ryo Coast, very pretty place. Anyway our server and private hibachi chef is a friend of both Casey and Roy, his name is Juan an he brought his Lamia too, a beautiful Krait, full sized too.

{Lots of full-sizes around I noticed in my neck of the woods}

Juan an I really hit it off when he introduced our Lamias, turns out his Krait is named Virgil! I laughed when I told him Dante’s name, turns out he loves the Divine comedy as much as I do. It wasn’t just us who hit it off but Virgil, Dante and Chip REALLY hit it off well.

I had just ordered a lovely seaweed salad and was sharing it with my boys, everything was going great.....when we heard it...

“LAMIAS!!!”

We turn to see a girl, about 10 by the fence [the venue was outside] an was jumping all with joy seeing our kiddos. Now normally this wouldn’t be a bother for us, one of the things of owning a Lamia ya know? We give her a little wave an so do our boi’s before going back to our appetizers. I was about to feed more of my appetizer to Chip when the girl started yelling.

10yr: Come here!

I look to see Zipper slithering towards the girl but stopping half way when she yelled again, Casey didn’t notice so I get up and walk over and pick Zipper up before he got too upset.

10yr: Hey put him down I was gonna pet him!

Me: I’m sorry sweetie but he needs to eat-

10yr: GIVE HIM TO ME!

Yeah at this point the girl starts throwing a nasty tantrum, Casey had come over an taken Zipper back. [He got scared by the kid]

I roll my eyes and turn to walk back, we ignore the kids nasty behavior and tried to enjoy our food. I looked to see the girl had stomped off, though my gut told me this wasn’t the end of it. I turn to Juan and asked if there was someone watching the entrance outside, he assured me we were fine an the only way to the outside venue is through the owner. I was relieved somewhat, but my past two experiences with these people always leaves me edgy.

Dante was doing his best to calm me down by trying to get me to eat more of my appetizer, it worked and I was feeding him and Chip some avocado. It was a little too distracting cause I didn’t hear the ‘Ahem’ coming from the fence.

“AHEM!”

I heard it that time, I looked an there was the little girl again and now she had her mother. She was standing there with arms crossed, nose up in the air and smelling of the nastiest odor we all call ‘smug’. I look at her an already she was glaring daggers at me, Chip was tightening his grip on my arm.

[His way of telling me to ignore her, but once you make eye contact there’s no going back.]

I turn to Casey an let her know I’d be right back, now I should let you know I tend to forget things an I absentmindedly took my water with me while holding Chip in the other. I walk over but I keep my distance, you never know.

Me: Can I-

EM: Why didn’t you let my daughter pet your snake?

[Here we go...]

Me: Ma’am, we’re not comfortable with strangers petting our Lamias without permission an-

EM: I don’t care if your uncomfortable with it, your snake wasn’t!

Me: Ma’am the ‘Lamia’ your daughter wanted to pet isn’t mine, he belongs to my friend and she doesn’t want him approaching strangers without her-

EM: You were with him.

[Stop cutting me off woman....]

Me: {loosing patience} As I said, he’s not mine he belongs to my friend-

EM: Well your holding this one let my daughter pet him then.

Me: {well of patience has now dried up} No, we’re eating right now an I’m going back to eat please leave us alone.

At this point I was turning to go back when...I’m not joking the woman reached over and grabbed Chip by his arm and tried to yank him out of my hold. I panicked I admit an dropped my water breaking the glass, I pulled Chip into a bear hug as the woman tried to pull him out. I was about to yell when who should come to our rescue then the hero’s of the Divine Comedy.

Dante slithered up in front of me and ‘flared up’ at the woman before Virgil let out a loud ‘HISS’ for good measure. It worked an the woman let go, backing up with her daughter behind her. I sorta fall back on my butt when the woman let go, the others heard the commotion and ran up to help.

Chip was shaken up but alright, his arm was okay an so was his shoulder. Juan yelled he was gonna call the cops if she didn’t leave, the woman shouted back she was gonna do the same thing on us for ‘attacking’ her. But she turned tail when Juan mentioned the cameras.

Meanwhile I was shaking like a leaf, Chip was trying his best to calm me down with Dante. He was rubbing my back while Chip was rubbing my face with his hands, heck even Virgil was trying to calm me down too by rubbing my head. Once I settled down we all went back to our table, Juan had radioed his boss and let him know what happened. The owner came out to check on us an he said our meal was on the house tonight for the trouble, I politely refused it but he insisted.

After a little while we all were going back to eating, I asked Juan about Virgil, I noticed how he was quick to come to my aid. Now I’m not an expert but I do know Kraits tend to be more on the shy side. He told me that Virgil will only hiss he’ll never bite an he only does that when someone is in danger like I was in...or he perceives as danger. It was something the two of them worked on together, I thought it was sweet.

We finally started eating, I got sushi and grilled fish. Things were uneventful after that, dessert was ice cream mochi. We’d have to be careful about people like this from now on if we’re gonna do “Lamia parties” in the future. We’d need to reserve more private venues inside or something.

On a slightly higher note Juan gave me his number so we could schedule meetings for our Lamias, Virgil doesn’t get out much and he really seemed to like my boys and he likes hanging out with me, he also knows his boyfriend would love to hang out with me too so its a win-win for all of us.

Thats it for this story, to Lamia owners out there be very careful when going out you never know when someone might do something...also wear a mask and be safe.

[For adoptions please speak to @vex-bittys]

[valiantgentle]

HOUSE OF TALK. an ashley adams one-shot. c. touch of fear, multiple chapters.

─ jerome talks about ashley with different people, including his father, poppy, and eddie.

           ( — chapters three and four. )

           Barely three days into the new term and already Jerome was being blackmailed by his devil incarnate little sister. There was a reason why he didn’t want anyone to know she existed and now she was blackmailing him in order to keep her existence a secret (from everyone except Ashley, apparently, who met her by accident and was now keeping the secret as well).

           “I said six.”

           “That’s all they had in the shop,” Jerome retorted, gesturing to the five chocolate bars he’d just given Poppy—one of her requirements for keeping the secret. “Why do you need so many?”

           “To make friends and influence people,” Poppy replied, just like a Clarke. “This stuff is like currency on the inside.”

           “This isn’t Alcatraz.”

           “Oh, and I want half your allowance,” Poppy added. This was one of those times Jerome regretted teaching her his tricks. He looked at her incredulously and she continued, “Unless you want me to blow the whistle. Remember that I’m not the only secret I’m keeping for you, Gerbil.”

           That other secret? Not exactly a secret at all. Poppy was also blackmailing him about his feelings for Ashley, which she figured out over the holiday when she stole his phone. But what Poppy didn’t know was that her telling Ashley wouldn’t do anything, considering the blonde had already been told several times by everyone in Anubis House and she still wasn’t even close to believing it, and given what Ashley knew about Poppy thus far (that she’s basically a younger and female Jerome), she wouldn’t believe it coming from her either. Probably. Hopefully.

           It was the whole ‘Jerome’s-got-a-sister’ thing he didn’t really want to get out. “Okay,” he agreed to her terms. “Okay.”

           “Okay. Pleasure doing business with you, Clarke,” Poppy said, pushing him before leaving.

           Yeah, definitely the devil incarnate.

           Except he trained this girl himself, knew all her tricks because they were his. He’d probably be able to be two steps ahead of her. And he was getting really tired of paying her off, especially when she’s now demanding half of his allowance—not likely. So the next time they met up, he barely gave her a fourth of his allowance.

           “What’s this?” Poppy questioned. “You may as well give me actual peanuts.”

           “Take it or leave it,” Jerome replied.

           “We agreed. Half your allowance.”

           “No, you agreed. I did not.”

           Poppy looked like she’d just accepted a challenge. “Hardball it is, then. Prepare to lose.”

           “I refuse to be blackmailed by you anymore,” Jerome said. “Do your worst.”

           “Fighting talk,” Poppy remarked. “You’ve got sass, Clarke. I like that. I think I’ll start with Ashley,” this brought on by Ashley’s figure passing by the room they were in, eyes on her phone with no notice of the two siblings, “tell her how much you love her.”

           “You can try,” he said, shaking his head and blatantly challenging her now, “she’ll never believe you. Everyone else’s been telling her that for almost three years, she’s not gonna start believing it now.”

           “Oh, I’m sure she’ll think differently coming from your little sister.”

           “You forget that she already knows one Clarke.”

           “Pretty well judging by all those photos you’ve got of her on your phone. See you later, loser.”

           Poppy left before he could get a retort in. She was off to do exactly what he said, her worst, and though by the end of the day his housemates knew he had a sister and had seen several embarrassing childhood photos of him, it turned out that Poppy actually did not speak to Ashley. At least that was a win—Jerome was bluffing when he said Ashley wouldn’t believe her. If it was coming from his sister, despite all the tricks, she might actually start to believe it.

             ( — chapters twenty-three through twenty-five. )

           “Mr. Sweet stopped Ash and I from starting a food fight,” Alfie remarked as he came up to Jerome.

           The masked ball was in full-swing and Jerome was enjoying it majorly until Mara made him give Joy and Nina their money back after selling them the exact same dress. The metal band mix-up was also fun, until they started playing classical rock music. Now he was just people-watching—well, more like Ashley-watching. She was talking to Mara about something when Alfie came up and started saying stuff about a food fight. That definitely would’ve made the night more fun.

           “Shame he did,” Jerome replied. “This party’s getting boring.”

           “Yeah. Do you always have to stare at her like that?”

           “What?”

           “Ashley. Why don’t you just go over and ask her to dance?”

           Jerome looked back at Ashley; she was speaking with Amber and Patricia now. But something just a bit more interesting, in terms of things he could use to his advantage somehow, caught his eye, because Patricia was smiling this way, right at one Eddie Miller—who was smiling back at her. Alfie noticed it, too.

           “Does someone have a little bitty crush?” Jerome remarked nonchalantly. “You have been hanging around her rather a lot lately.”

           Eddie scoffed and corrected, “Her hanging around with me, Jerry. Her hanging around with me.”

           “No way,” Alfie countered. “She hates you, man. I’m willing to bet there’s no way you could get militia Patricia to dance with you.”

           This could be interesting. Jerome looked at Eddie with an expectant smile and Eddie said, “What, are we in kindergarten now?” A little more encouraging should probably work. Jerome and Alfie shrugged and fist-bumped and Eddie added, “Okay, okay. You’re asking for it. What are the term?”

           “If you win,” Alfie started, “Jerome will sing ‘She’ll Be Coming ‘Round the Mountain’ on stage, in the style of a rap artist.”

           That was most certainly not what Jerome was expecting to hear. “What?”

           “But if you lose, you have to give Jerome the rest of your money for the month.”

           That’s more like it. “Yeah, that works,” Jerome agreed. Besides, there was gonna be absolutely no way Eddie would actually get Trixie to dance with him. He wouldn’t have to sing ‘She’ll Be Coming ‘Round the Mountain’ on stage in the style of a rap artist (and what exactly possessed Alfie to come up with that, of all things?)

           “Deal,” Eddie said. “What am I gonna spend it on around here anyway?”

           Eddie and Jerome shook on it; the bet was on. Now all left to do was watch, except it was just Ashley and Amber by the curtain now, and then Fabian went over to talk to them. Patricia was at the refreshments.

           Eddie put his mask on his face and went over to Patricia, and Jerome and Alfie watched amused as he tried and failed to get Patricia to dance. And then, against all odds, she set her mask down and let him take her onto the dance floor. He actually got her to dance with him, and when he spun them around so that Eddie was facing the direction Jerome and Alfie were watching from, he gave them a smug look.

           “Hope you know the words to ‘She’ll Be Coming ‘Round the Mountain,” Alfie remarked as Jerome mouthed several things he couldn’t say out loud to Eddie, who winked at them.  This wasn’t gonna be fun. “Ashley’s gonna have so much fun with it when she sees it.”

           Jerome slowly turned to Alfie, narrowing his eyes and clenching his jaw. Not only did he now apparently have to go rap a folk song on stage, in front of everyone, at some point during the night, but Ashley was going to see it as well. She’s never gonna let him live it down.

           “Oh, by the way, she wants you to ask her to dance,” Alfie added casually.

           “Yeah,” Jerome retorted dryly as he glanced back to where Ashley and Amber had been standing, only to find that neither blonde was there anymore. “‘Cause I’m going to believe that after what just happened.”

           “No, seriously, she does,” he insisted. “She said she was bored and wanted you to ask her to dance. It was right before Fabian’s speech, it’s how we almost started that food fight. So, go find her and ask her to dance. Especially since you apparently turned her down when she asked you to save her a dance. Seriously, why would you do that?”

           “For the record, she took back that offer when she saw me in the stupid mummy costume.”

           “Well, the offer’s back on. So go, ask her to dance before you start rapping.”

           Jerome turned to him. “Tell me, do you see her anywhere? Or Amber or Nina or Fabian?”

           Alfie looked around the room, shrugging. “No.”

           “Exactly. She’s disappeared. Probably off playing hopscotch or whatever those four are up to.”

           --

           Ashley had indeed disappeared somewhere, which meant she wasn’t actually going to be there to watch Jerome completely murder ‘She’ll Be Coming ‘Round the Mountain.’ Fortunately for her, and unfortunately for Jerome, there was this little device called a camera phone and Alfie’s phone just happened to record videos.

           As Jerome reluctantly stepped up to the mic on the stage, Alfie started filming.

           “What’re you doing?” Joy questioned.

           “Making a video of what’s about to happen for Ash,” Alfie replied as Jerome gestured for the music to cut out. “She’s going to be so mad she missed this!”

           Thus, the world’s worst rendition of a folk song began. And it was, as promised, as ridiculous and embarrassing as it sounded like it would be. Alfie happily ended the video when he finished the song and immediately sent it to Ashley’s phone with the all-caps caption ‘JEROME RAPPED SHE’LL BE COMING ROUND THE MOUNTAIN ENJOY!’

           Meanwhile across the room, Mara and Poppy had just discovered that the letter Poppy had snuck onto a tray of drinks that ended up in Trudy’s hands while Jerome was interrogating them about what was going on with them was no longer on the tray at all.

           “There!” Mara exclaimed, pointing at the letter on the floor, but as they went toward it, someone’s foot knocked into it and sent it sliding all the way toward the stage. But before she could get it, Jerome jumped off the stage and unknowingly set his foot on it.

           He figured out something was there when both sets of eyes glanced at his feet. He moved his foot and grabbed the envelope, unfolding it. It was addressed to both Poppy and Jerome Clarke, at Anubis House, and turning it over, there was a sticker on the back that sealed the letter from Huntswood Prison.

           Jerome looked up from the envelope to Poppy, who looked careful but not regretful about what she’d done. Then he looked at Mara, who was standing right beside her. “You went behind my back. I would expect this from her, but you? Did Ashley know, too?”

           “No, she didn’t, I swear—” Mara started.

           “And why should I believe you? I saw you talking tonight. Was it about this?”

           “No! I’m sorry, Jerome—”

           “Spare me!” he retorted, brushing past them.

           Mara grabbed Poppy’s arm as she went to follow. “I think we should wait this one out.”

           --

           Jerome returned to Anubis House, far before the masked ball ended, with the letter in hand and mind only on what could be in it. Poppy wrote a letter to their dad, a man who was literally in prison for God knows what. But he tore the letter open, and he read it, and then he reread it a dozen times, because his dad wanted them to visit.

           When morning came, he’d slept on it, and still didn’t know what to do. But it wasn’t just Poppy who had kept this from him. Mara helped her do it, and maybe Ashley helped her, too. Ashley was the only other person besides Mara who knew that his dad was in prison, and he wouldn’t have expected it from her, either. Maybe last year, just to spite him, but this year? It didn’t seem like her, but it didn’t change the fact that she was close with both Poppy and Mara, especially on the subject of his dad.

           For what it was worth, Ashley didn’t seem too off at breakfast. He didn’t look at her through most of it, which might’ve definitely been unusual, but the few times he did look at her, she looked genuinely confused as to why he was acting like he was. And Mara seemed to have noticed that, because before they left for school, Jerome went back to his room to grab his bag and she knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response.

           “She really didn’t know,” Mara repeated what she’d said last night. “We didn’t tell her.”

           “She was the only other person who knew—”

           “The only thing she knows is that there was a delivery for you and Poppy,” Mara interrupted. “That’s only because she was there when it arrived. She asked me what it was last night and I told her that she couldn’t tell you and she stopped me from telling her because she was sure it was something to do with your dad and she didn’t think she could lie to you about it. That’s what she and I were talking about last night.”

           Jerome paused, thinking it over. He put his bag over his shoulder and turned around to face her. “You really didn’t tell her?” he asked cautiously.

           Mara shook her head. “No. Poppy didn’t want to. Ashley has no idea about the letter. Jerome, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interfere. It just meant so much to Poppy.”

           The letter was sitting on his nightstand. He glanced at it, grabbing it and holding it up. “He wants me to go and visit him.”

           “Is that bad?”

           “No. How could meeting my estranged father in prison be bad? Yeah, I’d say it’s not good.”

           “But—”

           “I need to think about it,” Jerome interrupted, locking the letter in the nightstand. “Maybe. I don’t know. In the meantime, I’d appreciate you not telling any of that to Poppy. I mean it, Mara. You owe me that much.”

           Mara looked at him for a few seconds before nodding. “Will you talk to Ashley about this? She’ll tell you the truth. You can still trust her.”

           “Yeah. I’ll talk to her.”

             ( — chapters twenty-nine and thirty. )

           When his dad said that he wanted him to visit alone next time to tell him something in private, Jerome had no idea what to think of it. He knew that Ashley said it sounded mysterious but she was one of those people who looked for a mystery in everything, which after what happened last term made sense for her. Sort of. But he had stopped speculating and returned this afternoon to the prison—only to find that Poppy was already there, sitting across from their dad.

           Aside from the fact that her being there meant that he wouldn’t find out whatever it was their dad wanted to tell him, Poppy’s presence meant that she read the letter and given that smug smile on her face, she wanted Jerome to know it. So after that and figuring out how she got there, and after their dad stopped them from swatting at each other (and said that was the first time in a long time he’s felt like a real dad, which had them laughing lightly), Poppy had just come back with some sweets from the machine (which gave Jerome’s dad a chance to say that whatever he wanted to discuss would have to wait and he’d have to come alone next time).

           And it was just after that that one blonde Australian came up in conversation.

           “Poppy was telling me about your girlfriend, Jerome,” said John. “She sounds like quite a girl.”

           Even Poppy looked confused. Jerome just asked, “My girlfriend?”

           “Ashley.”

           Poppy seemed to realize what exactly had happened and awkwardly scratched behind her ear before lowering her hand. Jerome turned to her, narrowing his eyes before questioning, “What did you say to him?”

           “Just the truth!” Poppy defended.

           “Oh, yes, she told me all about how Ashley’s been helping her and you with finding me,” John continued, with apparently no notice of the way Jerome was glaring at Poppy. “Poppy’s very fond of her. You should bring her sometime, Jerome. I’d love to meet her.”

           “That’s not happening,” Jerome replied. Aside from the fact that he was most certainly not dating her, he also knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t want to come. “Ashley’s not my girlfriend.”

           Now John looked confused. “But Poppy said you were in love.”

           Poppy cleared her throat and shook her head. “No, I said that Jerome’s in love with her but refuses to tell her, even though it’s so obvious that her boyfriend even told her—”

           “She has a boyfriend?”

           “No, they broke up,” Jerome answered before turning back to Poppy. “And how did you even know about that?”

           “Everyone heard about it,” Poppy said. “I was in the next hall over and heard it myself. People were looking at me all weird because they know I’m your sister. And anyway, I thought it was really strange how he brought you up when he’s the one that cheated on her—”

           “Do you mind not telling him all of Ashley’s business?”

           “Wait a moment, I’m confused,” John cut in. Both of his children turned back to look at him. “So, this Ashley isn’t your girlfriend? But you love her? Does she love you back?” Jerome said no, Poppy said yes, and Jerome glared at her again. “Well, which is it, yes or no?”

           “No,” Jerome answered definitively. “No, she doesn’t.”

           “Yes, she does,” Poppy argued.

           “Poppy—”

           “Come on, Jerome. The entire school knows it. Why do you think there’s a bet on when you two will get over yourselves and get together?”

           A bet? That was news to him. Jerome turned to his sister again, questioning, “Bet? What are you talking about, a bet?”

           “The bet,” Poppy said again. “I don’t know who started it but it’s spread across the whole school. People have even come to me asking for the inside scoop so they get their money. So, when do you think you’ll tell her you love her? This year or next year?”

           “Which did you bet on?”

           “No way I’m telling you! You’ll just make it so whichever I didn’t bet on happens.”

           Jerome rolled his eyes. John looked between them, now utterly confused as to what was happening, and said, “Wait. Give me a minute to get this straight. So…Ashley isn’t your girlfriend, but you do like her. And she recently broke up with her boyfriend who cheated on her. And there’s a schoolwide bet on when you two will get together, and everyone but you thinks she likes you. Is that right?”

           Poppy nodded. Jerome glared at her again.

           You know, her telling their dad about Ashley was one thing. Her telling him that Jerome’s in love with her, therefore leading their dad to think that Jerome and Ashley are dating, was another, and something told Jerome that when Ashley herself found out, she wouldn’t be too happy. But on the other hand, the fact that his dad heard as much as he did about them and made the leap to them dating was kind of…it kind of felt nice, if irritating.

           But now he finds out that there’s some kind of bet on them? He’d bet money that it was Alfie or Amber that started it.

           “You know, there’s even a nickname for them,” Poppy remarked. “Everyone calls them Jashley.”

           Jerome wished he was unfamiliar with the nickname. He’d heard it from Alfie back when he’d first found out Jerome had feelings for the other half of that equation, apparently it had been coined by Amber. And Alfie really enjoyed using it.

           “You know, all this talk of Ashley,” John said, “and no one’s shown me a photo of her yet.”

           “Oh, I can do that,” Poppy said immediately, taking her phone out of her pocket. After a minute, she handed it across to him. “That’s her and Jerome at prom a few months ago. They went together.”

           “She’s very pretty, Jerome,” John noted.

           “Yeah, I know,” Jerome responded before laying his eyes on Poppy again. “Where did you get that photo?”

           “It’s on her profile,” Poppy explained. “She friended me. I thought Dad might ask. She’s got tons of photos on there.”

           And judging by the way John was clicking on the phone, he was looking at some of the other photos Poppy saved. “You and she make a nice couple—”

           “We’re not a couple,” Jerome interrupted again as he reached for Poppy’s phone, giving it back to her. “And you—stop saving photos from her profile.”

           Poppy shrugged and said, “Okay.” She clicked a few times on her phone before passing it across to their dad again. With a smug smile, she continued, “Here’s one she sent to me.”

           Jerome knew which photo it was before his dad had even had a chance to look at it. There was only one photo he knew Ashley had sent to her—the one she’d taken of them at the opening gala for the exhibition, while he was dressed as a mummy. That was confirmed when John laughed at the photo and said, “Why are you dressed like a mummy?”

           “It was a job,” Jerome replied quickly before taking the phone back. “How often do you and Ashley text?”

           His sister shrugged again. “Sometimes.”

           “Okay, that stops now.”

           “Afraid she’s going to tell me something embarrassing about you?”

           “More like worried you two are going to start conspiring against me together.”

           “Get over it, Gerbil.”

           John interjected before they could start swatting each other again, tapping his fingers on the table and pointing toward the phone Poppy was taking back from Jerome. “Well, if this Ashley isn’t your girlfriend,” he said, “she still seems like a very good friend and I’d still like to meet her. You should bring her sometime.”

           Very good friend.

           That’s all Ashley would ever be, and maybe that was his own fault. The second he realized that his feelings for her were more than he expected, he swore to himself that she’d never know. Mostly because at the time he realized it he’d barely known her a month and he’d accidentally started a less-than-friendly rivalry with her. And things seemed to have gone pretty well with that swear until Alfie figured it out and decided to try and set them up for the next year and a half. Though the first time Ashley did hear him say that she reacted with a scoff and theorized that they were planning something, using that to preoccupy her mind so she didn’t figure it out, and she’d sleep with one eye open.

           Though Jerome would admit, reluctantly of course, that there were more than a few times over the past few months that he caught her looking at him differently than she ever had before, and when he caught that, he let himself forget that swear and wonder what things might be like if he told her and, by some miracle, she felt the same about him.

           But she didn’t, and he knew that, and before he could think too much on it he always pulled himself out of it, forced himself to come back to the real world where she was his best friend and he was nothing more than that to her.

           “She’s not coming,” Jerome responded to his dad’s offer after a moment.

           “Jerome, I think you should let the girl,” John said, “make that decision herself—”

           “I know Ashley, she’s not going to want to come,” Jerome said again. Aside from that, he couldn’t quite figure out what exactly she and her roomies plus Fabian had been up to lately, but whatever it was, she was certainly keeping busy with it. There was also the fact that if on the unlikely chance Ashley did want to come, Jerome was relatively certain his dad would try and suss out if she had feelings for him, and that was something probably better left to Alfie and his wild theories. “And I think she’s got too much on her plate without making the trip out here for an hour.”

           “All right, but I do expect to meet her at some point.”

             ( — chapter fifty-seven. )

           “Eddie, do you have the crib notes for French?”

           Eddie responded with a distant yeah, handing him a plastic-wrapped sandwich from his locker like it was the notes he’d asked for without even glancing Jerome’s way. It was definitely odd, even for Eddie. Seemed like he’s not entirely focused on schoolwork (if he ever was), but this begged for more questions.

           Jerome looked from the sandwich to Eddie, adding, “Something on your mind?” Eddie closed his locker and scoffed. “Oh, come on. I’m not all bad. Try me.”

           He tilted his head at him, and Eddie admitted, “Uh, well, me and Patricia went on this date the other night—”

           “And it was a romantic disaster,” Jerome finished with a laugh, the only plausible ending to that sentence. “Yeah. That’s a surprise.”

           “No, the date was fine,” he corrected. “It’s just after, we didn’t—we didn’t kiss.”

           “Oh,” Jerome said, drawing it out a little. Patricia Williamson—militia Patricia—going on a date with American Eddie Miller was interesting enough on its own. “But I thought you were one of those supercool, uber-confident, piece-of-cake kind of guys.”

           “Uh, thanks,” Eddie replied sarcastically, “but uh…no. It’s—I don’t know. Patricia’s…” Right at that moment, Patricia and Ashley passed by them, the latter talking to her about movies or something. Eddie turned around to look at the subject of the conversation while Jerome watched curiously. There was something to be said about the fact that the girl Eddie liked and the girl Jerome liked were currently down the hall conversing while one of them was the thing they were talking about. “Different. I’ve never felt like this before.”

           Jerome would be lying if he said he couldn’t relate to what he was saying. Ashley was different too, definitely not in the same way, but she was different. A challenge with fire in her eyes and a never-ending storm in her head.

           He regarded her for a moment until she glanced his way, at which point he turned back to Eddie and said, getting back on the Trixie line of thought, “Okay. Then here is what you do, my American friend.” Eddie crossed his arms. “Right, the next time you’re with her, you’re going to plant a big, fat smackeroo right on those luscious lips on hers.”

           Eddie glanced back at Patricia, who was now opening a bag of crisps and offering some to Ashley. Ashley must’ve declined it because Patricia shrugged and put a handful in her mouth. “Think so?”

           “Yeah, everything except luscious.”

           “Huh,” Eddie murmured. “All right, yeah. Pretty good advice, Jerry.” Jerome rolled his eyes at the nickname; Eddie refused to give it up and called him that more than his actual name. But it got under his skin, which is probably what Eddie was aiming for with it. “Should probably take it yourself.”

           “What?”

           “Ashley,” Eddie elaborated, turning back to where both girls were standing. They were going down another hallway now, still talking. Jerome narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, dude, it’s insanely obvious that you like her. I’m pretty sure the only person who doesn’t know is her.”

           “Surprised it took you this long to jump on the bandwagon,” Jerome retorted, neither confirming nor denying. He’d meant to tell her exactly that two days ago, after babysitting Alfie’s surprise little brother, but she’d left before he could, which he briefly considered a good thing because he had no idea what he was going to say to her nor any idea how she’d react. “Those rumors seemed right up your alley to use to your advantage.”

           “Ha, yeah. Actually Joy said if I want to be an official Anubis resident I’ve got to at least pretend to care about you and her being so obviously into each other. Didn’t really see why everyone cared so much ‘til just now.”

           “You’d probably do well not listening to Joy about it anymore.”

           “Yeah, don’t think so. Seriously, dude, just take your own advice,” Eddie said, clapping his hand on Jerome’s shoulder before walking away—the exact opposite direction of both Patricia and French.

           “Where are you going?” Jerome questioned. “French is that way.”

           “Oh, I’ve been to class all morning. It’s Eddie time. See if Ashley’s got those notes you’re looking for,” Eddie said, smugly grinning at him before disappearing around the corner.

           Jerome shook his head, rolling his eyes. See if Ashley’s got those notes—Ashley never has notes for French. And if she does, she probably burns them once she’s finished with them considering how much she hates that class.

             ( — chapters sixty-six and sixty-seven. )

           It was raining.

           And Jerome was hidden behind some tires, his bike near him, waiting for a car to pull up so he could know if Trudy, who had been recently kidnapped, was safe. Jasper was waiting by his own car, a doll that once belonged to Sarah Frobisher-Smythe in hand, with no idea Jerome had followed him out here.

           A car pulled up, and a familiar woman stepped out from the passenger side. “Vera,” he murmured at the sight of her. There was always something off about her and obviously everything Mara had written in her article had been accurate, and somehow Vera made herself seem like the innocent party in the eyes of everyone who didn’t know Mara. “I knew it.” Another figure stepped out of the car, his face hidden beneath the hood he was wearing. “Wait. What?”

           “I don’t see a dollhouse,” said the other figure’s disguised voice. The Anubis dollhouse was initially what Jasper had promised after Jerome caught it lighting up and smoking on its own in Ashley, Amber, and Nina’s room upstairs, but it was too big to get out unnoticed immediately. The doll was the next best thing, creepy riddle and all. “Are you incapable of completing one simple task?”

           “I need an assurance from you that Trudy is unharmed,” Jasper said.

           “She is safe, for now. Where is the dollhouse?”

           “It’s coming, but it takes time. Meanwhile, I’ve brought this.”

           Jasper took the doll out of the bag he had with him. Vera asked, “Where did you get that?”

           “It belonged to Sarah Frobisher-Smythe. And it plays a message. Listen.”

           Before Jasper could play the cryptic riddle the doll hid, the Collector grew angry, grabbing his arm roughly. “I don’t need a doll.” He tossed the doll into the mud and grabbed the front of Jasper’s shirt. “I need a dollhouse!”

           Jerome had stood to get a better view, see if he could see the face beneath the hood, but his foot hit a chain and he was ducking to hide again before he was seen. If Vera found him, there wasn’t any doubt he’d end up kidnapped just as Trudy was, and he really didn’t like the idea of that.

           “What was that?” Vera questioned. “Have you brought someone with you?”

           “You better not have,” said the disguised voice.

           Jerome looked out just enough to see that Vera was coming his way with a torch in her hand, preparing to search the area where the sound was, and the closer she came, the more likely he’d be found. Even hiding the best he could wouldn’t get past her, but he was hoping for the best. Another distraction maybe…

           “We don’t have time for this,” the disguised voice said. Vera stepped away from the tires and went back to him and Jasper. “You have twenty-four hours. After that, Trudy will pay the price. And so will you…” The man turned his head the direction of Vera. “And so will Ashley Adams.”

           “You’ll have her, very soon,” promised Vera.

           “Twenty-four hours!” the voice shouted to Jasper again as he turned.

           “Ashley…” Her name was hardly more than a whisper from Jerome, more from his shock hearing it from a disguised voice than his still hiding. Hearing her name from that voice was like getting punched in the gut, and what Vera followed it up with? That felt like being crushed by the tires he was hiding behind. “No. Not her.”

           --

           Vera knew. Vera knew who Ashley Adams really was. That was the only thing Jerome could get from what she said. Jasper said that The Collector wants anything and everything that belonged to the Frobisher-Smythes. Maybe that even included the one person living who was related to them, even if it wasn’t by blood. Lily Henry had been adopted by them, hadn’t she? He remembered her telling him something like that.

           Jasper left in his car with the doll, with still no idea Jerome had heard all of that. Jerome got on his bike and returned to Anubis House, mind racing the entire night, and yet it was a pair of piercing blue eyes that looked at him all sorts of different ways that kept coming back. The next day, he went back to Frobisher Library, ready to get some answers about what happened last night.

           “Truth time,” Jerome started. Jasper was repairing a mosaic and stopped when he heard his voice. “I know Vera’s involved.”

           “Jerome, what are you—” Jasper said.

           “No more lies,” he interrupted. “I was there. I know she’s involved.”

           Jasper looked back at the mosaic he was working on, some green tacky thing that used to be in Anubis House, before confessing, “Yes, Vera is involved.” At least now he’s telling the truth about one thing. He put the mosaic in the drawer of his desk. “But she’s not the Collector.”

           “Do you know who he is?”

           “No,” Jasper denied. “And there’s nothing I can do about Vera. Not while the Collector’s got Trudy. We need that dollhouse. I’m afraid that if we don’t get it—”

           “You’ll have it,” Jerome said. “Which brings me to my next point. The dollhouse is in Ashley’s room. Ashley Adams. When was the last time you heard that name, Jasper?” The curator’s mouth parted. “That’s what I thought. What does he want with Ashley?”

           “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.”

           “No more lies.”

           “It’s not a lie, Jerome. I never heard Ashley’s name from neither Vera nor the Collector.”

           “Then what have you heard? What have they said? They had to have said something!”

           Jasper quieted him. Jerome ran a hand over his face, trying to calm himself down, before looking back at him expectantly. After a few seconds of thinking on it, Jasper said, “Well…the Collector wants anything and everything Frobisher. She does live in Anubis House—”

           “So do nine other people, but I only heard her name.”

           “Perhaps he thinks she has a stronger connection to the Frobisher-Smythes than anyone else in that house. Although I don’t understand why he or Vera would think that. She’s Australian, and there’s no Frobisher-Smythe connection to that country.”

           A connection to the Frobisher-Smythes. Always comes back to Robert, doesn’t it? Jerome sighed. “Have you ever heard of Michael and Elizabeth Henry?”

           Jasper nodded. “Of course. They were on the expedition to open Tutankhamun’s tomb in 1922 with Robert and Louisa. Very close friends of the Frobisher-Smythes, though they both went to prison after being convicted of stealing from the tomb. No one ever found what it was they stole, nor what the Frobisher-Smythes were suspected of stealing. What have they got to do with anything?”

           “They had a daughter called Lily who was adopted by the Frobisher-Smythes after they went to prison. Lily Henry is Ashley’s great-grandmother.”

           “I see.”

           “That has to be why this guy wants her, right? And Vera said that he’ll have her—”

           But Jasper interjected, shaking his head as something like remembrance appeared in his eyes, “No. No, I’ve heard Vera say something like that before. She didn’t think I was there, she was on the phone with him. She said that he’ll have the…the Bringer of Death.”

           It was like someone had heard Jerome thinking to himself over and over ‘this couldn’t be any worse’ and said no, let’s make it worse. Jasper was about to figure out what Vera and the Collector must’ve already known.

           “She was talking about Ashley Adams, wasn’t she?” Jasper said. Jerome stayed silent, watching the pieces fall into place in his head. “Of course. Ashley Adams is the Bringer of Death. Michael and Elizabeth’s granddaughter—of course!”

           “What do you know about the Bringer of Death?” Jerome asked cautiously. Every time he said it, the title sounded even more ridiculous and he got flashbacks to that one scene in The Mummy, which wasn’t doing anything to help his nerves at the moment.

           “Well, not much, she’s merely a legend, or—or I thought she was,” Jasper explained. “There have been dozens of women throughout history who have been rumored to be it. But there’s never been any proof she actually existed, just rumors and theories. I thought she was a myth.”

           “Well, she’s not.”

           “You knew who she was. Well, that—that makes sense, I do know that you’re close with her. But so is Fabian,” Jasper said, speaking now of his godson. “Does—does he know about her as well?”

           “Fabian’s the one who figured it out,” Jerome reluctantly confirmed.

           “It’s really Ashley Adams? She’s not who I would have expected.”

           “Jasper, focus. Is Vera going to try and kidnap Ashley like they have Trudy?”

           Jasper let out a heavy sigh. “She might. Unless we bring the dollhouse to them first,” he said. Right. Back to the dollhouse. “He’ll let Trudy go and he might back off Ashley if we bring it to him. Jerome. Do you want to keep Ashley safe?”

           The question had a simple answer. “More than anything.”

           “Then we need that dollhouse.”

             ( — chapter seventy-four. )

           It had been two days since Jerome went to Ashley’s room and confessed that he had romantic feelings for her to her face. He still wasn’t sure why he chose that night to tell her—maybe it had something to do with them being locked in that barn, or to do with the fact that Rufus and Vera were plotting to kidnap her—but he told her, expecting nothing of it. Well, he sort of expected for her to tell him to get out. That was it.

           The one thing he didn’t expect, and the only reaction he didn’t prepare for, was for her to tell him she felt the same way. And that was exactly what happened, and after that he tried out the eyelash trick, which she immediately called him on before kissing him. Which basically means the eyelash trick worked. And honestly, if Amber hadn’t walked in and started freaking out about it, he probably would’ve stayed with Ashley until Victor called curfew.

           But now their relationship had changed—right there between friends and more. He hadn’t had a chance to speak to her the day after they first kissed because she was by Nina’s side all day after that article posted on the Jack Jackal column, but he’d had a chance to talk to her today and more when he pulled her into that classroom (and accidentally scared her into thinking she was about to be kidnapped, but that part wasn’t relevant.)

           And yeah, Jerome was a little disappointed that Ashley didn’t want to come to the prison with him to tell his dad about the gem, but at least she was up for meeting him sometime. Just not today. Although given that he was afraid his dad may have a less-than-stellar reaction to the gem being stolen again, it was probably a good thing she hadn’t come. He’d invited Mara to come on Ashley’s suggestion, since she’d already met him.

           “The gem was right there in the shield,” Jerome explained hesitantly. “And—and then it was gone. I let you down, Dad. I’m sorry.”

           John didn’t look at all disappointed. “At what point did you let me down? You found the missing gem. Then you retrieved it from inside a goose,” he started to recap the gem’s journey back to the shield in the 21st century. “Then you cat-burgled the housekeeper who stole it.” Technically that one was Fabian and Nina but he wasn’t going to correct that. “Then you won a ping-pong championship to get the shield to put it in.”

           “Pretty much,” Jerome confirmed with a light laugh.

           “You’re a true Clarke,” John said, hitting him lightly on the arm as he laughed. “You couldn’t write it.”

           “Someone should. ‘Saved by the Gem: A Tale of Two Clarkes and a Goose.’”

           “What do you reckon, Mara? Would anybody want to read that?”

           Mara thought on it. “Well, actually, yes. Definitely.”

           Jerome had an idea suddenly, taking his phone out of his pocket. “Oh, hey. I can, however, show you a picture of the gem.” He went through the photos on his phone before finding the ones from after the tournament, handing it across to his dad.

           John took the phone, smiling at it. “Ah, there she is. Beautiful.”

           “I will get it back, of course,” Jerome promised. “I will. I just need to figure out how.”

           “I know,” John said. He turned the phone around on one photo; it was the one Ashley had taken of Jerome and Poppy. “This one—this one may be my favorite.”

           “Oh, Ashley took that one,” Mara recalled. “She took tons of photos of the tournament for the school website. She told me that was one she thought you might like.”

           “Jerome, you really should bring her,” John told him as he turned the phone back around, continuing to click through the photos of the gem. Jerome gave a somewhat awkward smile, not about to tell him that he tried to get her to come today. Then John’s entire face changed as he clicked through to a photograph that was taken that very morning. “Oh. Well, this is certainly another reason why I should meet her. I see my boy’s finally got his act together.”

           “What?” Mara asked, eyebrows furrowed.

           John started to turn the phone around but Jerome caught the photo on the screen and scrambled for the phone before Mara could see it. Amber was still the only person who knew that the relationship had shifted and if Alfie found out Mara knew before him, he’d never hear the end of it. “Ah, no,” Jerome said quickly, clicking the screen off. Mara looked at him confused. “No.”

           “Oh, the ping-pong,” Mara said with a tone of realization. “You should be very proud. Jerome told me Ashley was sort of his good luck char—”

           “Right, well, we better be getting back to the house,” Jerome interrupted with a clearing of his throat as he stood up. He definitely regretted mentioning that to Mara now. “Mara?”

           “Uh, sure,” Mara said, still bewildered. “All right.”

           John grabbed Jerome’s sleeve before he could turn around. He lowered his voice as he asked, “Are you sure you and this Ashley aren’t an item? I’ve just seen a photo that says otherwise.”

           “Dad, it’s a bit complicated,” Jerome started.

           “Then keep it simple, stupid,” John retorted. Jerome would admit he was a little taken aback. “Based on everything you and Poppy and now Mara have told me, she seems like a good match for you. And judging by that photo, she seems to like you. Uncomplicate it. Don’t miss your chance, okay?”

           Don’t miss your chance.

           Her schedule seemed to be busier than ever, but he’d managed to catch her alone a few times. Next time he did, he’d make sure he didn’t miss his chance to be with her. “Okay.”

             ( — chapter ninety. )

           All in all, the day Jerome had just had was one of the more unbelievable ones he’d lived.

           First, he spent half the day in Rufus’ creepy barn, waiting for a chance to escape. Then when he finally got a chance, Rufus found him hiding amongst the hay bales and dragged him back inside—only for him to bring a disoriented Eddie into the room a few minutes later, replacing him in the chair and tossing a blanket over Eddie’s head (but it gave Jerome a chance to put the real gem in Eddie’s pocket so Rufus didn’t have it anymore) and dragging him to the car.

           Then he was roughly shoved into Frobisher Library, forced to go into some dark and dusty tunnel through a secret passage behind a bookcase and down to some chamber by Rufus, saw the (fake, as it turned out) Mask of Anubis, figured out that the gem he’d given to Eddie was the thing that completed said Mask, thrown the (fake) Mask to Alfie, and got out of that strange tunnel with Amber into Frobisher Library.

           And then it turns out that Eddie is some kind of—some kind of Osirian or something? Jerome still wasn’t sure what exactly that meant but Nina and Ashley seemed to know, and Ashley seemed pretty shocked. Then Nina put the third eye in the Mask, put it on her face, the thing began to weep gold tears, and then that ghost Mara and Eddie had captured on film was on the second level and possessed Nina or something, shot some lightning bolt at Joy—and was promptly defeated by Ashley and Eddie working together somehow. At that point he still didn’t understand a thing that was happening. Pretty much the only thing he did understand after that was Rufus putting the real Mask of Anubis on, declaring that he was about to be a god, only for a fiery pit to open up in the floor that he must’ve gone down or something.

           All in all, pretty unbelievable day.

           But fortunately, things began to look up when he returned to Anubis House after trying and failing to get a hold of Poppy to see how the hearing went. Mara berated him for missing it, which was about when Alfie came in holding the real gem which he had left behind in the chaos, and it was just after that he turned around and his sister and his father were standing right behind him. He won the hearing, and now he was free. And now that he had the gem back, he could put it back where it belonged, in Frobisher Shield.

           And things certainly began to look up when Ashley called his name, kissed him in front of everyone, and told him that she loved him. And Jerome had kissed her, and he had told her he loved her, too. He’d figured that out a long time ago and it had been on the tip of his tongue every time he’d seen her since. Finally telling her made him feel like despite everything that had happened that day, and despite whatever happened in the library…things had turned out pretty all right.

           Jerome had danced with her a little bit, talked about their new relationship, and told her again he loved her so many times she was probably getting sick of it. Well, probably not, but it was right after that last one that Ashley stopped dancing with him and instead pulled him over to his dad and Poppy to chat. She was probably trying to fix things considering that she’d met his dad literally one minute after their relationship had become official.

           “So, Jerome told me you’re an artist,” John was saying now.

           Ashley was taking a sip of her punch. “Mm. Yeah, I am.”

           “She’s good at it,” Jerome remarked, smiling adoringly at her.

           “And I know it.”

           The not-so-modest comment had all three Clarkes laughing and Ashley, visibly relieved it had gone over well, brought her cup to her mouth again. John said, “She’s got wit. I like her.” And that one had that look of relief returning to her face. “I don’t mean to sound…but have you got anything you think I could see?”

           “Actually…” Now Ashley looked thoughtful and she nodded. “I might. Stay here.” She handed her cup to Jerome and started toward the door, running into Patricia and Eddie on the way. Eddie held his hands up in a somewhat defensive position as she said bluntly, “Out of my way, Edison.”

           Patricia chuckled and said, loud enough that they could hear from where they are, “Wow, she is really not taking it well.”

           “I know,” Eddie said, a devious smile on his face. “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

           Jerome had absolutely no clue what either of them meant by what they said, but he put it at the top of the list of things he wanted to ask Ashley about. Also on the list: first actual date, when should she meet his mum, is he really willing to meet her sister again but this time as the boyfriend given what happened the last and only time they met (her sister was not his biggest fan, to put things lightly), things like that.

           Ashley came back down about a minute later, and he recognized her sketchbook in her hands. She was flipping through it as she returned to where she was standing. Among the sketches he saw was one of that photo of Lily and Sarah that was in that box Sarah left her, some landscapes, one of an elderly lady and Nina. “Ah…here.” She stopped at one of the sketches, tearing it out and handing it to John. “You can have this one. I finished it last night, couldn’t sleep.”

           The sketch was of the very same photo that his dad had recently seen of Jerome and Poppy, the one from after the tournament when they put the gem back in the shield (for the first time). Like all her other drawings, this one was good as well. Good wasn’t a strong enough word; it was amazing. “You sketched me and Poppy?” Jerome questioned, a light smitten tone accompanying his words.

           “When you’ve got a photo that good,” Ashley replied, “it’d be a crime not to sketch it.”

           “Wow, Ashley,” Poppy said, beaming. “You’re really good.”

           “You are,” John agreed with a nostalgic smile. “Thank you for this, Ashley. I’m glad I’ve finally a chance to talk to you. And thank you for helping my son get the gem back.”

           “Yeah, you would not believe,” Ashley said, “the vendetta I’ve got against that gem.” Jerome chuckled lightly. He was the only one aware of the true history of the gem before his dad stole it all those years ago. The third eye. “I’m just glad everything’s how it should be.”

           She looked at Jerome as she said that. He smiled at her in a way that could only be described as entirely smitten, and his tone was the same as he said, “I really do love you.” She leaned up and kissed him quickly, a peck more than anything, but it meant everything.

           Behind them, Amber said, “Hey, Ashley. So sorry to interrupt. Hi, Poppy, Mr. Clarke.” Poppy waved at her a little. Amber looked at Ashley again. “I need your help with the cake.”

           Jerome told his family, “That’s code for girl talk.”

           “No, it’s code for Amfie talk,” Ashley corrected with a smirk. Amber tilted her head. “Oh, I have to hear this. I’ll be back in a minute.”

           Amber dragged Ashley into the kitchen with the cake, already gossiping about ‘Amfie’ or whatever they were talking about. Jerome turned back, venturing, “So, uh…what do you think of her?”

           “You better not let that girl go, Jerome,” was John’s immediate response, and definitely the one Jerome was hoping for. Poppy nodded to agree. “She is a real gem.”

           Jerome glanced back at Ashley, catching her eye with a soft smile. “I know.”

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Fraxus Anastasia au 1

I don’t think you need to have seen the movie, but I wanted to write it :)

Part one of the fic under the cut

The clothes are itchy and as a 13 years old Laxus reaches for the collar, his hand is slapped away by his very disgruntled looking chambermaid. The girl huffs and he apologetically removes his hand, allowing her to fuss over him. "Are you nervous?" Evergreen asks, mercifully avoiding his eyes as she forces him on a chair so she can reach his hair. He could attempt to lie, but the younger girl has a knack for seeing right through him, so he foregoes that.

"Yes", he admits reluctantly. His estranged grandfather's castle is immense and the walls hold no familiarity to him. Not once has his grandfather attempted to contact him and then, all of a sudden, he banished Laxus' father. He has no idea what goes through the old man's head and although he would never say  it out loud, the uncertainty unnerves him.

"All these people are gathered here today to see the new heir to the throne and the reason why the old one disappeared is unknown. People will talk."

"They always will." As his grandfather appears in the doorway, Evergreen hurries to bow before the man. He acknowledges her with a polite gesture, but also tells her to leave for he would like to talk to his grandson. Evergreen gives Laxus a thumbs-up before she goes and he nods in return.

"She's a spunky thing I've heard. Bossy, but good company." Ignoring the piss-poor attempt at small talk, Laxus decides to get to the heart of the matter. "Why am I here? Where is my father?" Sighing, his grandfather's face turns somber. "My son is an awful man", he plainly states and immediately, Laxus jumps to defend his father. "He's not!" he yells. His father is strict, true, but that's because he loves Laxus as well as the common folk. He's harsh because it's needed.

"You may not understand it yet." His grandfather looks at him with an expression that can only be pity and Laxus feels the disdain crawling underneath his skin. With a pat on the head that Laxus tries to dodge, his grandfather bids him farewell. "I'll see you in a half hour. Tonight is not about Ivan, it's about you. Try to have fun, won't you?"

Laxus is decidedly not having fun. He has two friends in total and neither of them are present at the ball. Evergreen is not allowed to come to occassions like these and Bickslow's skills as a jester in training apparently aren't needed today. Skirting around people is harder than expected, but Laxus manages to reach the buffet tables.

While he's wondering whether anybody would notice it if he hid underneath the table, someone tugs on his sleeve. "Excuse me", a greenhaired child says and points at a pile of creampuffs on a stand. "Can you give me one? I can't reach them", he explains, sounding terribly bored. Since he has nothing better to do, Laxus fulfills the request.

Munching on his creampuff, the kid stares at Laxus with an unsettling amount of concentration. "Would you like to dance? I like dancing, but if I asked anyone else, I reckon I'd be swung through the room like a broomstick. I'm not tall enough to keep up with any adults and the other parents were sensible enough to leave their children at home."

The dry tone of his voice forces a snort out of Laxus. "I'm not good at this", he warns and the child shrugs. "Practice makes perfect."

It can't even be called practice, because Laxus hasn't received a single lesson in ballroom dancing in his whole life and the other child seems to have grown up doing nothing but. They unanimously agree to settle on a bench, their feet a sensible distance away from each other (Laxus truly does feel sorry for the kid) and a platter of snacks between them. Conversation comes more natural to Laxus, although it's a very stilted one on his side. It's a blessing that the other kid is a goood listener and doesn't seem to mind Laxus' awkwardness.

Just as his nerves are getting settled, his grandfather appears before them and Laxus feels like crawling in a ditch again. His grandfather coughs, hinting for the other kid to leave. He doesn't. Instead he blinks slowly at the tsar before offering him a cup of water, which his grandfather takes after a short pause where the man clearly doesn't know how to react.

A berating outcry of "Frederick!" is heard before a lady yanks the boy from the bench, apologising profusely and attempts to force her kid to do the same thing. "I don't acknowledge that name. If you absolutely must, you may refer to me as 'the infant formerly known as Frederick', though I'd prefer it if you called me 'Freed'. Frederick Justine sounds terrible, while Freed Justine has a nicer ring to it. It's like a tongue in cheek reference to the things our family values: freedom and justice."

"Why don't you go all the way and demand to be called Freedom?" Laxus asks before he can stop himself and Frederick? Freed? rolls his eyes. "Because it sounds fucking stupid", he scoffs, tone strongly implying that he thinks Laxus is a moron.

Before he can retort with some snappy answer (not that he has one ready, but it's the thought that counts), Freed's mom has dragged him away and he can hear every berating word the woman utters as she physically removes him from the ballroom. There goes Laxus' only form of entertainment.

"That was something", his grandfather bemuses and Laxus gives him a questioning gaze. "Aren't you mad? He seriously disrespected you there." His grandfather snorts. "He's ten at most, of course I'm not going to berate a kid for being a kid. In fact, I think it should be more encouraged in the upper circles of society."

That doesn't sound like something the grandfather his father used to talk about would say and it momentarily throws Laxus for a loop. His grandfather seems to take note of his confusion, but he chooses to put it aside for the moment and Laxus is grateful for that.

"Here", his grandfather says and hands him a pocket watch. Their family symbol graces its front lid and when he turns it around he can see the third rule of departing (though our paths may have diverged, you must continue to live out your life with all your might, you must never consider your own life to be something insignificant, and you must never forget about your friends for as long as you live) written on it.

"This was a wedding gift made for your mother", his grandfather explains and plucks a necklace with a tiny, little key out of his pocket. He inserts the tiny object in the watch and the clock piece jumps open to reveal the rotating image of a young, blonde woman in a field of flowers. As the itty bitty figure slowly spins, a melody can be heard and Laxus can't help but gasp as he recognises the lullaby his mother used to sing.

"You can have it." With shaking hands, Laxus takes the objects from his grandfather and puts the watch in his pocket and hangs the key around his neck. "Thanks", he mutters, not looking at his grandfather. He's still not sure how he feels about the whole situation, but he does feel lighter now.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees a flash of green and when he turns to properly look, he recognises that it's Freed reentering the ballroom. The boy makes a beeline for Laxus and his grandfather, mouth set in a thin line.

"You two have to get out of here", the boy states as soon as he's within earshot. "Excuse me?" his grandfather asks and Freed's eyes keep darting back to the door he just came through. "Your son, he's no good, right? Otherwise you wouldn't have pubicly thrown him out. He's coming this way and he isn't alone."

Right as Freed finishes that sentence, someone screams from in the hall and many more voices soon follow. Laxus thinks he can smell fire, but before he can linger on that thought his grandfather grabs both Freed and him by the arm, dragging them away from the erupting chaos.

"This way!" he hears someone somewhat discreetly yell and he's yanked into a different direction. First Laxus struggles against the stranger until said stranger yells at him to calm down. It's Bickslow he realises as the other boy leads the three of them through the servants' passages. With a rather harsh shove, Bickslow guides them through a door that has no business being as small as it is.

"I'll see you all later!" he cheerfully says and waves as he turns around. "Wait! What are you doing? You can't go back there." Distressed, he watches as Bickslow winks at him and reveals the matchbox in his hand. "I'm going to hold them up for a little bit, I'll be fine. Evergreen will take good care of you!" And with that he's gone.

He has no time to ponder about Bickslow's fate, because for the second time this evening Evergreen is fussing over him. Only this time it's a quick change of clothes and a wig gets slapped on his head. His grandfather takes care of his own disguise and Freed stands there and watches. "Sorry", Evergreen apologises to him, "You're not written down in the protocol for emergency situations."

"It's alright, I'm not the one they're after. I'll hold down the ford with you." It's a task that he and Evergreen immediately have to take care of, as shouting soldiers try to kick down the door. His grandfather leads him away and the last thing Laxus hears before exiting the palace, is the sound of something metallic falling unto the ground.

They run for what feels like hours to Laxus. He's always been a sickly kid and right now, he's at his limit. With a wheeze that seems to come from deep within his lungs, he slams unto the concrete streetfloor, dizzy and dazed out of his mind. Logically, he knows that he isn't breathing right but physically, he can't do a single thing about it. All he can do is gasp pathetically like a fish on dry land.

"If it isn't the tsar and the mighty heir to the throne!" His father's tone is vicious and Laxus forces himself back on his feet. He can't look pitiful in front of his father, he knows he can do better than that even though his lungs burn like a furnace. "Ivan", his grandfather growls in response and it's nothing like the gentle tone he used all evening. His grandfather sounds like he would like to throttle his son with his own two hands and Laxus can't begin to fathom what the outcome of a fight between these personalities would be.

His father comes closer and the way he does it reminds Laxus of all the times he's been hit or yelled at. The man looms over him, stalks to him slowly with a grin on his face and a glint in his eyes. It has him whimpering rather pathetically and the sound eases the tension off his grandfather's face. "Come here kiddo", he whispers and extends his arms to Laxus.

He hesitates. Technically, he doesn't know this man. But then he catches sight of the expression on his father's face and it's a no-brainer. He nearly jumps into his grandfather's arms and the man catches him quite easily for an old man. They take off running at a surprisingly high speed and through zigzagging throughout the streets of the city, they eventually lose track of Ivan.

As the sound of the clock resounds through the air, his grandfather curses. "Dammit, five more minutes until the train leaves. Laxus, can you run again? If I have to carry you there, we won't make it." Dutifully, Laxus nods. Although he's unsure of his actual capacity to run that long, he knows that saying 'no' to an adult is not a thing one should do if they value their safety.

So they run and with the help of the strangers already on it, Laxus' grandfather gets lifted on the train. Laxus himself tries to get on too, but he's too slow and the train's already departing. Their fingertips graze each other, but the light touch is not enough to hold on to. He stumbles over a protruding piece of wood and smacks his head unto the iron railway. The last things he registers is his grandfather being restrained by the people who helped him on the train, screaming Laxus' name.

[trans-axian-archive]

yah this is another motorcycle au post what about it (first post / revisions / wangxian [au art] / trans things!!):

- everyone thinks wei wuxian must listen to a bunch of punk music but that's like.... 15% of his music taste. wei wuxian sits there in his leather jacket and his ripped jeans and big stompy boots with his headphones in looking like he's listening to like. the clash but really he's got britney spears blasting into his ears

- on the other hand everyone thinks lan wangji listens to Exclusively classical music which Is a good deal of his music taste but half the time he just listens to sad folk music and cries

- jiang cheng Refuses to admit it but he LOVES shitty pop music and sappy love songs

- wei wuxian Does not brush his teeth. he just doesn't. he won't do it. lan wangji brushes his teeth the recommended two times a day. everyday. when they start dating lan wangji refuses to kiss wei wuxian unless he brushes his teeth and wuddya know the next day wei wuxian is an avid tooth brusher

- I know it doesn't Really make sense with the way this au is set up (wwx riding a motorcycle because he loses his license) but I'm the god of this universe and I've decided that the hilarity of the wen remnants all riding motorcycles far outweighs logic and world building consistancy

- perhaps I'm saying this for the simple fact that I own the same shorts, perhaps I'm saying it because I'm obviously correct, but wei wuxian has a pair of booty shorts that say "fuck the cistem" on the ass

- the version of having low cultivation in this universe is being a really shitty driver.... nie huaisang has a cute little green bicycle that he rides everywhere

- I know that in canon jiang yanli has low cultivation but I think that's stupid sexist mxtx brainrot that doesn't make any sense so in my au shes an Excellent driver :^)

- even tho jiang fengmian and madam yu are good and loving parents in this au, they Are constantly busy and rarely have time to do Family Things so jiang yanli still ends up taking care of her brothers a lot

- jiang yanli loves her brother Of Course and is very sweet and nurturing towards them but don't forget that in canon she still teases them and jokes around with them! she's not just a doting sister! she has personality beyond taking care of others n I wanna push that even more in this au!! she likes to tease them in silly itty bitty ways that go under everyone else's radar but her brothers immediately pick up on and start banter with her about that Nobody Else Understands

- wei wuxian and jiang yanli 100% team up on jiang cheng to tease him and he's outraged about it every time

- wen ning and wei wuxian are Constantly getting into stupid best friend antics. no one expects it from wen ning at first cuz he's the Shy Gentle Kid but within a few months of him being friends with wei wuxian they know he's a little bastard

- I said before that they become friends when wei wuxian saves wen ning from falling down a ditch on a field trip but the first time they Meet is when wen ning is like,,, working on... idk Some school thing and wei wuxian is like hey you're really good at that!! and helps him with a part he's confused about

- wei wuxian is always keeping wen ning safe/stopping people from bullying him and it's not because wen ning can't take care of himself, wei wuxian just knows he doesn't like confrontation or hurting others But if someone hurts someone he loves and cares about wen ning will Not hesitate to throw a punch

- when wei wuxian becomes pals with wen qing both his siblings are crushing Hard and he has to be like guys do not make my friendship with her weird Do Not jiang cheng she is a junior jiang cheng

- jiang yanli is bisexual and she has Two hands... she can date both jin zixuan And wen qing....

- when jiang yanli and wen qing start dating wei wuxian goes to wen qing like don't you dare tell me weird shit about my sister alright so whenever she wants to annoy him she'll be like "I was making out with yanli the other day and-" and he'll just run away covering his ears

- similarly jiang yanli will try to talk about wen qing and wei wuxian will be like UGH STOP THATS MY BEST FRIEND. he thinks she just wants to talk about it with someone which is at first true but after the 3rd time she's just 100% teasing him

- wei wuxian gives them both a very half hearted shovel talk like "please don't hurt her I love you both :(("

- his talk with jin zixuan involved a lot more open threats of violence and jiang cheng, who decided to join for extra measure, telling him that he knows how to snap someones neck

- the timeline of this au goes like this: the first lil part of the plot where everyone meets/becomes friends happens in freshman year, but wen qing, lan xichen, jiang yanli, jin zixuan, and nie mingjue are all juniors at this time (and they're all pals cuz I think that's cute and silly). wen chao and jin guangyao are sophomores because they have annoying entitled sophomore energy, and mo xuanyu becomes a freshman the next year. wei wuxian loses his license at the beginning of his sophomore year (once again I know that's not how licences work but let me have this), and gets into the accident in the middle/end of the same year, wakes up in junior year, and starts dating lan wangji in senior year