#blah blah i know i could learn coding but consider: hell no

[mbat]

the upside of pokemon and other similar media (creature collectors) is that they make it so easy to categorize the little creatures which is very satisfying to me

the downside is that they dont categorize them the way i want them to nor conveniently all in one place 😔

[yespleasefandomtrash]

The Bet (Pt. 1)

I will gladly provide all the Kagalix content in the ML fandom because I love them so much.

This is a Private School AU, and they're aged up slightly. Alix's dad owns the Lourve in this AU, so the Kubdel family is well off. The Tsurugi family is also of high status.

Alix is the resident school rebel, breaking rules, spray-painting walls, and being a general hassle, but no teacher can really punish her because of her father. She's a boss at track and field, too. I do headcanon her as half German.

Kagami is president of student council, has straight A's, and will probably be valedictorian. All the teachers love her, even if students find her standoffish. She is also the best fencer in the school and is highly competitive.

xXx

"Not again, Kubdel!"

Alix knew that screech of frustration all too well. "Sorry, Principal Damocles!" she called, tossing the now empty can of red spray paint onto the ground behind her. "I've already finished it!"

Her mural of Iron Man was beautiful and probably one of her best pieces. It also happened to cover half of the science wing's outer wall, which was probably what annoyed Damocles so much. But she couldn't help that the school's walls were so perfect for graffiti.

"You are going to stay after school every day until you scrub every inch of this wall clean," the principal growled, crushing the can she'd thrown aside beneath his foot. "Do you understand me?"

"Entschuldigung, ich spreche kein Englisch," Alix replied innocently. "And even if I did know English, there's not a chance in hell I'd wash this away. I had almost a hundred people ask me to paint this."

Her principal was fuming, his face almost as red as Iron Man's suit on the wall. "Kubdel, if your father weren't as important to this school as he was -"

"You'd expel me, blah blah blah." Alix rolled her eyes. "I'm afraid you just don't appreciate art, sir."

The bell rang, interrupting their conversation at the most convenient time. She was starting to get bored of this argument already.

"This conversation isn't over, Kubdel," Damocles growled.

"No, I think it is." Alix waved a mocking goodbye to the man before sauntering back into the building. She was untouchable at this school, which was really one of the only reasons she'd bothered to stay enrolled. The courses themselves were easy as hell, which meant she could half-ass everything and still keep several points above the minimum GPA requirement.

"Ms. Kubdel, please tuck in your shirt. And maybe consider being in dress code for tomorrow?"

Alix laughed. "No can do, Miss Bustier. You know these uniforms are freakishly ugly." She shrugged. "I've got to spice it up somehow."

'Somehow' meaning she'd ripped off the sleeves and wore whatever patterned shirt she wanted beneath it. She also wore the guys' shorts instead of the girls' skirts, because shorts were ten times more comfortable than a skirt that went down past her knees because of her height. Or rather, her lack thereof.

Miss Bustier simply sighed, but Alix could see that she was smiling. Miss Bustier had always had a soft spot for her, even though she'd never paid attention in her class. She'd passed with an A, though.

Alix turned the corner in the hall and paused at her locker. She opened it and shoved the various cans of spray paint aside in order to reach her booksack, which was lighter than it should have been because she never bothered to carry more than one binder.

She slammed her locker shut before turning away and beginning to walk to class, only to crash into someone and stumble backwards. Her booksack slid off her shoulder and the straps scraped the floor.

The person she'd bumped into grabbed her before she could completely fall, and they pulled her back to her feet.

Alix looked up to see a tall girl with dark hair and pretty brown eyes. She was dressed in uniform perfect to code, with a red tie being the only major splash of color amidst the white and navy. Despite how Alix had slammed into her, she'd managed to not drop any of the four books she carried in her arms.

"Sorry," Alix finally said. "Guess I should have looked before I walked?"

The girl sniffed in apparent disdain, releasing Alix's arm. "Clearly."

Alix frowned. This girl looked strangely familiar. "Wait a sec." She snapped her fingers, slinging her booksack back over one shoulder. "You're the student council president, aren't you?"

"Yes," the girl replied. "Kagami Tsurugi."

"Yeah, I voted for you! It's nice to meet you. I'm -"

"Alix Kubdel. I know." Kagami shifted her books to her one arm. "Your reputation precedes you."

Alix raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes. And that's why I'll be going now."

Kagami started to pass her, but Alix grabbed her arm. "And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"I don't hang around with people who've been stuck in a pitiable rebellious phase for the last three years," was Kagami's cool reply. "If you'll excuse me -"

Alix let go of her arm but stepped in front of the girl to block her path. "A 'rebellious phase'?" she said incredulously. "What, because I think some of the rules around here are stupid I'm a lowlife or something?"

"No, you're a lowlife because you have a complete disregard for anyone but yourself."

"So you don't deny some of the rules here are stupid."

"Rules exist for a reason."

"Only a person with a stick up their ass would say that."

Kagami glared at her. "I could get you expelled for that."

Alix smirked. "No you can't. And you know it."

Kagami held her ground for only a few seconds before sighing. "Will you let me go to class now?"

"Not unless you agree to my bet." Alix recalled that Kagami was a near-professional fencer with a competitive streak a mile long. It couldn't hurt to capitalize on that. Besides - Alix herself had never lost a bet in her life.

Kagami narrowed her eyes. "What bet?"

Alix crossed her arms. "If you give me a week, I bet I can teach you how to have fun. Make you learn how to live life without following every single nitpicky little rule."

"As if." Kagami tried to push past her, but Alix stepped in front of her again. "Kubdel, if you don't move out of my way -"

"You're afraid to accept." Alix grinned at her. "And it's because you know I'm right. You want to rebel, to break some rules, but you just don't know how. Is that it?"

"No, I -"

"Then take the bet." Alix smirked. "When I win, you pass any five rules I want, or you take down any five rules I want. As student council president I'm sure you won't have any trouble with that."

Kagami frowned, and Alix knew she was contemplating the proposition. "And when you lose?"

"If I lose, I'll follow every single rule to a T for the rest of the school year. I'll even let you enforce traditional consequences if I screw up." Alix held out her hand for the girl to shake. "Do we have a deal?"

Kagami tilted her head to the side. "Three days. Not a week."

"Five days."

"Deal."

When Kagami shook her hand, Alix felt her body tingle with excitement. She already had a dozen ideas to make this girl break out of her shell. "Then may the best woman win."

Kagami chuckled. "I intend to."

Mm. Yeah, Alix should have seen that one coming.

Kagami let go of Alix's hand, but then leaned close to her, whispering, "I, for one, can't wait to see you put in your place. Kubdel." With that, she sauntered away, disappearing into the crowd of students rushing to get to class before the bell rang.

Alix watched her leave, a strange buzz flooding through her entire body. This girl was like no one she'd ever met. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

xXx

I'm in way over my head with them. Also, I'm going to create a tag list for this fic, so let me know if you want to be added!

(Also please forgive me for the one line of German in the fic. I had to use Google Translate.)

Part 2 coming soon!

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Local Teen Shows Parents Why He Needs This Paranormal Weapon, Boy Possibly Hallucinating or Psychic, Children Risk Lives to Save Lives and Bicker About Responsiblity, Boy Silently Ponders if Magick Food Counts as Drug

When Tucker got home, his parents fussed over him, scolded him for not telling them that he was fighting ghosts that came after him and Danny, and made sure that he kept as off his leg as possible.

"You let me keep my bow and arrows!  I can do more damage to a human being with those than I can with this ecto pistol.  And I'm a great shot!"

"Does it have a safety?  Magazines to remove?"  Mom wasn't letting up on him for even a moment.  She examined the gun from every angle before looking back at Tucker.  

"Yes and no, respectively.  The safety is currently on; it's right here but don't turn that off.  What if I showed you how good a shot with this I am?"

Tucker's Dad, Maurice, heaved a sigh.  "We let you keep the bow and arrows only after you proved you could handle having free access to them.  This is… something."

"I'll set up the target, and you show me that you can reasonably use this without hurting yourself.  Then, maybe, you can keep it."  Mom put her hands on her hips.  "You best not let any police officer catch you wielding this potentially deadly weapon."

"Understood!"  Tucker saluted, heaving a tired sigh when his parents left to set up the target.   Pulling out his PDA, Tucker typed into the schedule he was keeping for Danny, "Foley Shooting Range, hit the target." Setting that for 10 minutes, Tucker hopped his way to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. 

Once the time came, Tucker was outside in his backyard, his archery targets set up for him to shoot at.  Leaning on his dad, Tucker raised his pistol and shot the targets one after the other.  All of them hit, even if he missed the bullseye.  He turned the safety back on and grinned.  "Se-"

Three loud blasts flew from above them and Tucker looked up to see Skulker scowling at the wrist not protruding a big fuck off plasma cannon.  From this angle, it looked almost like… it couldn’t be.  “Is that my PDA?!  I have 3 more payments on that!”  Tucker nearly raised his pistol but considered that his Mom and Dad were there, and while he pitied the fool that confronted Angela Foley, this was a fight his parents couldn’t help him with.  Nostrils flaring he glared up at Skulker with all the impotent rage he could muster and the robot flipped him off before flying away.  “This is why I need this pistol; hostile ghosts can only really be hurt by Fenton weaponry.”

His parents were a touch easier to convince of letting him keep the Ecto Pistol after that.  Tucker decided the best distractions were working on things, so he got to work on that A.I. and the car design.

Danny couldn't Not see it now and that was bothering him.  That extreme indigo-esque color that blanketed the second plane of reality like a contact lens was now just barely there Everywhere.  Danny could see and trace every electrical current around him, track his family by the individual aura each of them had, and if he actually tried to look on that second layer he could see threads binding them all together.  The strongest ones connecting to him lead to Jazz and off into the distance.  Probably to Sam and Tucker.

And so there Danny was, writing in his journal while everyone was at school for various reasons, and muttering to himself.   "The ultraviolet light is starting to seep into my everyday vision, though mirror checks show no actual visible signs unless I actively check.  Internet searches only call this whole aura thing The Sight, but unless I go out and look for naturally hidden ghosts and spirits, I can't be sure this is that.   Is it safe to bring up that I can see the incorporeal if this is the Sight?"  He tapped his cheek with the eraser of the mechanical pencil and hummed.  "Debatable, consider later.  Leaning toward No.

"Pressing issue is Skulker; how to trap him is key.  He can't stand up to our bigger guns, that I'm sure of but we need to figure out how to out plan him."  Danny groaned and dug the heel of his palm into his eye and rubbed away the exhaustion.  "He can't attack me while I'm at home so this is both a safe zone and also an invalid area for the fight…"

Danny's phone rang and he nearly snapped his mechanical pencil in half.  Thankfully he only cracked it and set it down gently.  "Tucker, you nearly cost me another pencil."  Reclining, he laid his head on his pillow and stared up at the constellations he made with glow in the dark stickers.   "How's the leg and arm?"

"I'm not the source of your paranoia Danny, and you know it."  Tucker snorted and Danny could practically see him rolling his eyes. "Arm's fine, the leg is still sore.  How're you holdin up?"

"Lil freaked out cause I can see that whole uh second level of reality at all times now.  It's a good thing I like indigo and blue.  Also, I was able to calm Jazz down with that like, bond between us?  It was weird but it worked."

"As glad as I genuinely am about this progress we still need to figure out the issue of Skulker," Sam said.  Danny checked the time to see it was lunchtime.  "One of us is gonna get killed, probably Danny, if we don't do something."

"I feel like I've noticed something weird about Skulker," Tucker said.  "He could've shot a tranquilizer dart at all three of us on the way to school, or even just Danny before he met up with us, and be done with it.  Instead, he sent a monster after us after we got around his trap."

Danny hummed, eyes narrowing.  "Sam, what kind of animals did Grovsner kill in life?"

"The rare and about to go extinct kind," Sam growled.

"That's not what I meant, Sam.  You said he died killing the last female purple back gorilla, right?  What else did he go after?  Did he have like, partners or…"

"No, actually.  He always did his hunts solo, went after things like Cape Buffalo, Saltwater Crocodiles, endangered species of squid, sharks, other stuff like that."  Sam took a few moments to breathe and stop herself from punching something, likely because Danny wasn't there to punch, and shortly asked, "why?"

"So he only went after dangerous animals alongside rare, showed off everything he caught if his behavior in death is the same as in life, and doesn't just Get It Over With no matter his opportunity to."  Danny sat up, eyes wide.   "Guys.  He's not obsessed with being a hunter.  He's obsessed with being seen as Strong!"

"Alright, question: what does obsession have to do with it?"

"C' mon Tuck, you've heard mom and dad rant and ramble.  A ghost's form is informed by their self-image in life and they act primarily on their obsession.  Agatha is obsessed with food, Skulker is obsessed with being seen as strong."  Danny felt himself grinning wickedly and got up to pace.  "But he's Not."

"Seemed pretty strong to me when he blew a hole in the observation tower, Danny."  Tucker huffed.  A pause.  "Wait a minute: is he, in fact, a robot?"

Danny hummed.  Closing his eyes, he focused on the hum of energy inside of him just past a layer of cold quiet, and visualized it spreading throughout his body.  He could feel it tingling under his skin and could see it clearly, a vibrant green light that pushed steadily up to the surface of his skin and then out, blanketing over the room.  For a moment, Danny's brain stuttered at the sensations it was forced to process, but he pushed on and reached out over the whole of his room.  There!  Getting up, Danny grabbed the metal panel that'd come off of Skulker when his mom shot him.  It was sparking, wires exposed, a few buttons here and there with no discernible purpose at first glance.  But the important thing was that it was still There.  "No.  If the robot was the ghost himself then any pieces that flew off would dissolve into ectoplasmic mist or goop.  This bit is still here.  Which means he's not strong enough to go after anything on his own."  Danny squeezed, hissing when the wires sparked threateningly and tossed it on his desk.

"Sam," Tucker said, "you're filthy fuckin rich, right?"

"That is correct, Tucker, why?"

"So you own that zoo, right?  That's how we got in at night?"

"… perhaps."

"Which means we can get back in, and set up a trap for Skulker, right?" Danny laughed and flopped into his chair.  

"Tucker, you genius.  But how are we gonna get him there?"

"Yesterday my parents were freakin out over everything and threatening to take my pistol away, blah blah, safety, all that junk.”  Danny rolled his eyes, struggling to see the Foley’s point there.  Danny had been trained to safely fire a gun as early as 11, hell he’d learned how to build one by then!  Tucker could aim.

“You’re an archer.  You have like, a quiver full of arrows and a bow in your home.  What’s the difference?”

“I know that’s what I said!  But anyway I convinced them to let me prove I could use it properly and know to put the safety back on afterward and I slipped into your schedule, which is linked between my PDAs by the way, to hit the bullseyes in the Foley Target Range.  Guess who showed up at the exact time I scheduled that for.”

Danny’s eyes widened and his grin turned vicious as Sam asked, “Does this have to do with your missing PDA?”

“I think I saw it on his arm where Dr. Fenton had shot that panel thing off.  He flipped me off and flew away but fuck, man, I’m glad he showed up.  Means I can figure out his suit once all of this is over!”

“Sounds good Tuck.  Hey, do you mind if I finish up our hoverboard?  I have a feeling it’ll be useful.”

“Danny, bromigo, I beg of you: go do that right now.  I have a plan, and the Nav Ai is almost done.”

Getting into the Zoo was easy.  Sam got them in with access codes she had simply from being the owner, and they set up near the purple-backed gorilla habitat.  “You know, Sam, if you’re so concerned about Sampson you can just order better conditions to be built for him.”  Danny felt it needed to be said.  She hadn't stopped ranting about Sampson in between all the planning, along with all the other animals she was technically in charge of.  "This is your place, you can manage it how you want."

"Danny now is not the time for wisdom.  Now is the time for taking down robotic assholes.  Is your ectorifle charged up?"

"I sang it a battle hymn and it hummed to me of wars long and hard fought."  Danny snorted at the dumbfounded looks on his friends' faces.  "Yeah, I got it charged up guys, I just had to get into the armory for a little bit and Mom and Dad have been out patrolling with their ghost radar thing."  Danny pulled out the rifle and checked it over one last time while Sam and Tucker set up around the cage, a large gorilla costume being pulled out of Tucker's stolen jacket pocket.  "I still want that back after all of this is done."

"Make me one of my own and I'll definitely give you this one back, yes.  That is a thing that will happen."  Tucker giggled and Sam rolled her eyes.

"C' mon guys, we have no idea when Skulker is gonna strike nex-"

An explosion shook the ground between the trio, knocking them all back, and forcing them to cover their eyes to block out flying shards of concrete.  When they opened them, the robotic poacher stood before them, toxic green mohawk of fire casting odd shadows over his faceplate and highlighting his predatory grin.

"You certainly know now, don't you girl?"  Skulker raised his arm and the hand cannon that Tucker had described unfolded from a panel on his wrist.  Before the charge up whine could reach its crescendo, a bolt of green plasma flew into Skulker's back and knocked him forward,  burning a fist-sized hole in his back.  Skulker turned to Danny with those fiery green eyes and a growl in his chest, firing his cannon at Danny instead.  "That's the spirit!  The kind of fight I've wanted in my prey for so long!"

Danny, filled with the writhing void that boiled with thousands upon billions of stars, took to the air a second too late and was knocked back on his ass.   As he stumbled back up, Danny saw a flash of green and growled as Skulker turned a crossbow that emerged from his shoulder and fired back at Sam.  Lunging with every ounce of speed he had in him, Danny only managed to get the bolt torn through his side while it grazed Sam's shoulder.

"Truly, I am disappointed; I expected a greater fight from you, ghost boy!  Regardless, you shall look nice in your cage back on my island."  Skulker stomped over and reached down to grab Danny by the throat and lifted him into the air triumphantly.  "Truly, I am the greatest hunter in the Ethereal Plane!"  Danny's ears were ringing, he was bleeding, and the sharp pain spread itself to every nerve in his semi-corporeal body.  He laughed, hands grasping at the steel of Skulker's arm.  "Why do you laugh, boy?  You are defeated!"

"You're not even the best hunter in this zoo.  Hell, you're not even a good hunter ghost in the first place.  Just a sad little man who wanted to look big in life and couldn't help trying to do it again in death."  White hot pain blossomed across his face when Skulker slapped him and Danny spat out some dark brown blood as the ringing set in his ear.  "Can't even tell a hologram from a person."

Skulker stared at him for a long moment, silent and motionless, before his grip went slack and his mohawk died out.  Danny floated backward from the suit and picked up his rifle, offering a salute to the sky, from which Tucker descended with his belly on the hoverboard.  "You are being evicted from your mecha, repeat, your mech suit is being towed."  Tucker punched a command into his PDA, and Skulker's chest plate unfolded, ripping open the shirt to reveal a compartment holding a tiny bipedal blob.  An ameba that could fit in Danny's hand with eyes, a mouth, and limbs. 

"Release- release me whelp!  I shall have your head mounted on my bedroom wall and your pelt made into a rug!"   Danny snatched it out of the suit and glared down at Grovsner with all the malice he was physically capable of feeling.  A growl rumbled in Danny's chest and out of his mouth and he squeezed.  "Alright alright, suck me up into your little soup can and-"

"You pathetic, arrogant, vile little ameba!  You nearly killed Tucker and Sam!  You electrocuted me!  You put the lives of everyone at my school at risk!  And for what?  To show me off in a cage to everyone at the fucking afterlife Christmas party?"  Danny pressed the barrel of his rifle against Grovsner's entire body, pinning him to his hand.  Then the shadows bent around the source of Danny's fury and gravity itself bound Grovsner in place, allowing for a much cleaner shot.  "For everything you did in life and everything you've done to me and my family, I hope it takes you a long ass time to pull yourself back together from this."  And then Danny pulled the trigger, and Skulker was turned into a splattering of toxic exotic matter that evaporated before their eyes.

Tucker, now sitting up on the longboard shaped hoverboard, was staring at Danny right beside Sam, the two of them agape.  Danny could see in their green and golden auras something less than pleasant mixed with relief.  It was silent for a few beats too long and Danny awkwardly slid his rifle back into his pocket.  "Dude, you have fucking fangs, they look so badass!"

"What?"  Danny blinked a couple of times when Sam raised her camera and took a picture, frowning at his friends when he could see properly.  "Did you say I have fangs?"

Sam showed him the picture and yep.  His canines were longer and sharper than they should've been, gleaming in the light cast by the flash and his eyes.  "They're tiny and adorable, and yet I'm jealous because if anyone should have fangs it should be me!"  Sam threw her hands into the air and groaned.  "It matches my aesthetic and I deserve to be a creature of the night!  You're not even mildly scary!"

"Alright, true, Danny's not intimidating enough for fangs," Tucker agreed, despite Danny's half-hearted disagreement.  "But still, they look good on him.  The gravity bending is pretty fucking cool though."

"Thanks, guys.  That means a lot."  Danny pulled both of his friends into a hug before letting out a loud his off pain because that hurt and he was still bleeding, right.  Reaching out to those silver threads that resonated with concern care fondness Love Danny drew that energy into his wound and let out a long sigh as the burning pain cooled down a bit and dulled into a throbbing ache.  "More manageable at least.  Here, allow me."  Placing a hand on Sam's cut shoulder, Danny concentrated on pouring out his own love affection soothing to Sam.  He watched as the energy flowed out and into the cut, stitching it mostly together until he could barely see it.  "You should probably be careful with that arm anyway.  I'm not exactly a doctor yet."

"You wouldn't be that kind of doctor anyway, Danny."  Sam gave him a hug again, ruffling his white fluffy curls.  "Can we go home now?  I'm exhausted, and I'm pretty sure you are too."

"I am, I very much am.  Tucker, I'm not bothering to ask for the board back.  It runs on solar energy so just head straight home with it, ok?  It'll be charged back up in the morning."

Tucker gave a thumbs up and slipped his helmet down properly, covering his face.  Standing up with the magnetic boots locked into place on the board, Tucker rose in a wake of neon blue light from beneath the board and took off with a loud cheer.  A whole day at Fentonworks was more than enough time to perfect an outfit, as far as Danny was concerned.

The ghost boy wrapped an arm around Sam's middle on his uninjured side and they took to the sky, soaring straight to her house.  Danny set Sam down on the balcony of her room and stuck his head in.  A whistle escaped him and he gave a thumbs up.  "Sam, one day we have got to hang out at your place."

"My folks aren't entirely jazzed with me hanging around you since you 'attract dangerous attention from monsters' so yes, you must come over and hang out with me.  And you must do it soon."  Sam ruffled his hair again and Danny huffed, pulling his hood over his head.  "You can't escape me and you know it!"

"We'll see about that," he laughed, sucking in a breath when he felt the laugh shake his side.  "Stop being funny."

"Unlike some people, it comes naturally to me."

"Rude."  Danny waved and backed up.  "Night Sam!"  Danny soared into the night sky and angled himself toward downtown.  Once he was as close to Agatha's place as he dared be, Danny set his feet down on the ground and let the world come back into focus, heat rushing into him.  Never before had he regretted a decision more than that one, and before he'd even hit the ground Danny was a ghost again.  "Owowowowowowow.  Pain, very much pain, I will not be doing that again."

Once the echoing waves of pain died down to a throbbing ache once more, Danny pulled himself into the air and slipped out of the way of every atom moving around him, letting it move through him and watching the world bleed into vague green shapes outlined in extreme indigo light.  "I doubt Agatha even minds if I go in there and no one ratted her out yet so I'm probably safe."

Poking his head through the wall, Danny looked around until he saw the only in focus sight near him.  Agatha floated in the kitchen, pulling the ether around her into her hands and molding it into food to wrap and put away in the fridge.  Danny floated over quietly and cleared his throat.  She spun around, eyes wide and Danny smiled.  "Hi there.  Sorry to uh interrupt but I may or may not be in need of giving that healing food thing a try.  Maybe it won't work on a human, but any extra energy will help I'm sure."

"Oh of course child!"  Agatha spun the indigo light into a sloppy joe and handed it to Danny, who immediately chowed down on it.  The best part of not needing to breathe as a ghost was that he had no reason to stop inhaling his food.  Agatha watched in anticipation as Danny focused on the layers upon layers of trilling harmonies, the ringing of countless bells that echoed within Danny's center of being, and felt his wound close up like Sam's had.  "Oh my."

"Thank you, so much."  He beamed up at the ghost and gave a thumbs up.  "I should be able to manage with this much myself.  Uh, Skulker will be gone for however long it takes for him to rebuild his body.  He did a lot of damage and I just.  Couldn't let it slide."

"I see," Agatha said, her gloved palms flat against each other.  "Well, I won't hold that against you dear, no one deserves to be hunted like an animal the way Skulker hunts his targets.  I'll ask that you not make a habit of that though, it gets you a reputation."  She wagged a finger and Danny nodded, feeling heavy.  "Now, head on home so that you can rest.  Food is important, but getting enough sleep is just as important after you do something as strenuous as fighting Skulker."

"I'll be sure to do that."  Danny smiled and waved, pulling himself back toward the wall.  "Have a nice night Ms. Reece."

"Have a good night Danny."

[sanjisock]

Fuck, Marry, Kill (or, how Usopp becomes the best matchmaker of the sea without really trying)

ao3

1.

It’s a classic , Usopp said. Any pirate worth their salt would play this at least once , he said.

Sanji would say he’s around eighty-percent sure Usopp just made this game up, but Sanji is always eighty-percent sure Usopp made something up just by principle alone. It certainly doesn’t help Usopp’s case that Nami is grinning wide beside him, notepad and quill in hands.

“So,” Nami echoes Usopp’s earlier question cheerfully, and her smile is way too beautiful and magnificent for the words that come out of her mouth next: “fuck, marry, kill. Who’s your pick?”

+

2.

There are rules to this stupid game. Actual fucking rules . Not even the world government kind, the ones they break on a daily basis anyways because, hey, pirates. These rules are the kind that forces you to pay Nami a hefty amount of Berries if you break them, which, on the deck of Sunny, means nothing short of Serious Business.

Nami had taken to the game with surprising interest as soon as Usopp told her about it, but then again, she talked about it with the same tone she uses when she’s going to swindle a lot of money from an unsuspecting poor fellow (read: Zoro), so maybe this isn’t much of a surprise at all.

The rules, pinned next to the spice cupboard and right under the dishwashing duty roster, are as follows:

A crew member must be picked whenever possible.

Only one name is to be given for each category.

If, and only if, one has come up with a legitimate reason not to pick a crew member, it has to be someone they’ve met, known, or at the very least, heard.

Choices are based on pure objective reasoning and any FUCK/MARRY shall not be interpreted as anything resembling interest or, worse, intention to pursue. This means you, Sanji.

The same applies to KILL. This means you, Zoro.

Individual answers are confidential and worth B500,000/answer, or 10% of your last loot, whichever is higher.*

*) Payments are to be made in cash to Nami.

Really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. Sanji thinks he saw her eyes turn Berries-shaped. He personally thinks she still looks beautiful, and tells her as much.

She tells him this doesn’t excuse him from the game, and expects his answer by the end of the week.

+

3.

Sanji is the first victim by elimination — Chopper is out of the game because he is young, innocent and, ultimately, not human, Zoro is sleeping like the oaf he is, Luffy doesn’t seem to have figured out that the thing below his belt is useful for something other than peeing, and the others have left the ship to explore the newest island they’ve just docked at.

Sanji silently wishes the marines would start attacking them just so they could distract Nami and Usopp from the shitty game.

It’s not that Sanji wants to ruin what is — Nami’s expensive fine notwithstanding — ultimately some harmless fun. Sanji has never had problems going along with the crew’s antics, and between declaring war on the World Government and punching a royalty so hard they call a marine admiral after you, this one is far from outrageous by any means. He doesn’t think it’s physically possible for him to give Nami a no for an answer, either.

It’s just that... he doesn’t actually have an answer.

He’s a romantic person by nature. He likes to make everyone happy, and when that doesn’t work out, he likes to make everyone he gives a shit about happy. He does preen from the more... feminine attention, but between the bustling customers of Baratie, entering and leaving as they please, he never learned how to pick favorites.

Nami points at rule number two.

Usopp suggests he should just pick Zoro for MARRY, because they already fight like an old married couple anyways.

Sanji threatens to put Usopp under KILL and break the fifth rule, exactly in that order. Usopp has enough self preservation instinct to shut up really fast after that.

+

Brook has never heard of the game, which gives more credibility to the Usopp-Made-This-Game-Up Theory, but it’s not like there’s stopping them at this point, so Sanji fumes and glares, but in silence. Usopp smartly stays quiet.

Brook asks if Nami would show him her panties if he puts her under MARRY. Nami clocks him in the skull.

He settles on Zoro for MARRY.

“What,” Sanji says, stunned.

“Well, Zoro-san is a disciplined, reputable swordsman,” Brook explains, “and any decent swordsman would make a responsible husband.”

That...probably makes sense in Swordsman-Speak, or whatever language people like Zoro, who substitutes normal greeting with stabbing and slashing, speak in. Whatever. Sanji is civilized , and will not bother to even try to understand.

Brook can’t name anyone under KILL. He is, however, curious if anyone wants to pick him, considering he’s already dead, yohoho, skull joke!

Nami groans and hits his skull, again.

+

Franky has heard of the game, but he can’t pinpoint where he’s exactly heard it from, and Sanji suspects it’s from Usopp.

Franky also puts Zoro under MARRY. Franky is so not on Sanji’s list of favorite people today.

“Not you too,” Sanji groans, scandalized, because Brook is approximately a billion years old and therefore would understandably consider Zoro’s neanderthal values desirable, but Franky is, like, the future . Cyborgs are essentially sentient robots.

Franky shrugs. “He’s a super dude, his fights make great shanties, he can help me carry the ship materials —”

“ I can help you carry the ship materials,” Sanji interrupts, and wonders how his life has gotten to a point where he’s trying to compete with Zoro for Franky’s hand in marriage.

“ And ,” Franky presses, “he won’t chew me out for burping on the table after dinner.”

Sanji’s eyes twitch at that. Well. In sickness and health, sure, but that? That’s just barbaric.

“He’s a great dude who breaks the Sunny’s railings once a week,” Sanji points out, switching his strategy. If he can’t win, at least Zoro should lose, too.

His strategy backfires as Franky raises his eyebrow at him and asks, “Speaking of, didn’t you break the front railing yesterday?”

Franky puts Sanji on KILL for that.

Sanji considers smashing his feet through the railing again, just because he can.

+

Robin immediately picks Zoro for MARRY, because blah yadda blah bushido code, something something gentlemanly, yeah, yeah. Sanji mentally apologizes for tuning her out, but if he has to listen to beautiful Robin-chan talking about Zoro being a good husband, Sanji won’t be able to resist arguing, and that just won’t do. He isn’t about to question a lady’s decision, however irrational. Nobody’s perfect after all — not even Robin.

She also puts Zoro under KILL for ruining her flower bed last week when he accidentally dropped his oversized training weight (which is unnecessarily huge and totally an overcompensation for something ), and he falls for her all over again. Robin really is perfect.

She then tries to clarify whether normal Franky and Cyborg Franky count as one.

“Uh,” Nami says, confused, “would it even make a difference?”

“Nami,” Robin says as she leans forward, chin in hand and a mysterious smile playing on her lips, “the hands make all the difference.”

Robin puts Cyborg Franky under FUCK. Sanji blinks.

Usopp grimaces.

Nami has a distant look on her face, the kind of expression that guys wear when they witness other guys get hit in the nuts.

They pointedly don’t ask , and back away from the room slowly.

+

4.

The final tally is:

Sanji gets one flattering FUCK (he hasn’t found out from whom, and honestly, considering the available options of Usopp, Luffy and Nami, doesn’t want to take his chances), Robin gets two (Nami shiftily avoids everyone’s eyes for this one), Cyborg Franky gets one (Franky opens his mouth to question the specificity, turns beet red by his own realization, and promptly closes it), and Zoro gets one ( ew , is what Sanji would like to say, but Sanji is man enough to admit that Zoro can get it, considering those abs and deltoids he keeps flashing due to his unexplainable aversions to clothing. Fucking caveman).

Zoro gets a whopping five for MARRY.

That’s literally all the strawhats, minus Luffy (who probably doesn’t even know what marriage is), Chopper, Zoro himself, and Sanji.

What the actual fuck .

+

5.

Sanji succumbs to curiosity and pays Nami his ten percent.

Zoro put Sanji under KILL, he finds out.

It’s not a surprise. Hell, it’s the most predictable thing coming out of this game—the sky is blue, water is wet, and Zoro puts Sanji under KILL. Whatever. Sanji still hasn’t decided on his list quite yet, but he is certain he’d put Zoro under KILL, too.

Nami asks him if he wants to know what Zoro’s FUCK and MARRY are, and Sanji politely declines because he just doesn’t care which random chick Zoro wants to do the deed with and not because the way his stomach clenches oddly at the thought, really . It’s probably that beautiful marine lady that always tags along with Smoker — Tashigi-chan or something. Zoro always acts funny around her, even when the others never noticed. He’s an open book to Sanji like that.

Sanji walks away and doesn’t give it a second thought.

Bastard.

+

6.

He gave it a second thought.

And a third. And a fourth. And damn his shitty traitorous brain to hell, a fifth.

By the time lunch rolls around Zoro and Tashigi are married with a quaint little dojo at the foot of a mountain and blessed with three bespectacled, green-haired children Sanji can’t even bring himself to hate because they’d smile just so when their Uncle Sanji makes their favorite apple pie.

Not that there’s anything to hate. About Zoro and Tashigi-chan, that is. Well, there’s always something to hate about Zoro because he’s Zoro , and Sanji would probably nag him a little for receiving the affections from such a beautiful lady like Tashigi, but there’s absolutely nothing deplorable about the idea in general. They’d get along swimmingly anyways, probably spending hours and hours just talking about shitty swords and other sharp, pointy things as their three children play in their backyard overlooking a beautiful deep blue sea, the setting sun painting a warm backdrop on the wooden walls of their dojo.

He blinks as his train of thought crashes and derails into a nearby mental chasm.

He blinks again, just for good measure.

Holy fucking shit, he has a problem .

+

7.

“Marines!” Usopp yells from the crow’s nest, and Sanji wakes up, eyes still bleary, to three marine ships surrounding Sunny, cannons loaded and aimed towards the deck.

Be careful what you wish for, he feels like telling his past self.

He rushes to the deck to get a clearer view on their enemies, and hell , he’s convinced the universe finds pleasure in finding new ways to fuck him over because he sees Smoker on the helm of the largest marine ship.

And if there’s Smoker, there’s —

“Shit,” Zoro mutters from beside him, and Sanji only needs to follow his gaze to see Tashigi walk up towards the helm to stand beside Smoker. Because of course Zoro would notice her immediately. There are roughly a thousand marines on three of these galleons and she’s the first person Zoro sees. Great. Awesome. That would make a romantic story to tell their three green-haired children.

God damn it. His brain really needs to stop with the children already. He considers going for a check up with Chopper just for this.

A thousand bloodthirsty marines prove to be a good enough distraction from Zoro and Tashigi’s imaginary children, and soon Sanji is lost in the rhythm of the fight, almost enjoying it. He kicks a marine on the back of the head, does a spinning kick to immobilize another ten, and jumps aside to avoid a gunshot —

Only to find himself face to face with Tashigi.

“Black Leg —” Tashigi says, immediately taking a fighting stance, but Sanji is faster.

Before he knows it, he finds himself kicking the two guys guarding her, lifts and drives his right leg on her sword and into the cabin wall right beside her head, effectively pinning her to the wall. Sanji doesn’t kick women, would never harm a woman, but anything around her is fair game and he feels almost guilty for trying to wrestle a loophole in his own principle.

He needs to do this, though. He has to. She’s a marine, his enemy, a threat. And… there’s something he needs to know.

He blurts without thinking, “fuck, marry, kill. Who would you pick?”

Tashigi starts. “What?”

He thinks he’s blushing, but he figures if he wants to avoid embarrassment the ship has sailed a long time ago so he says, “out of the strawhats. If you had to choose, who would you fuck, marry and kill?”

Tashigi narrows her eyes and pulls harder on her sword. “Are you joking, pirate?!”

Sanji is stronger, though. He pushes her sword deeper into the wall. “I’m sorry, mademoiselle, but I don’t joke about this.”

Tashigi wears the expression of someone who wonders what kind of life decisions she’s made that has led her into this situation, which is something Sanji can relate with. “Well, fuck you , pirate. I’d kill you .”

That’s fair, Sanji supposes. “And marry?”

She opens her mouth, stops herself from saying at least three other different curses before turning an interesting shade of red.

She mumbles her answer.

“Yes, Tashigi-chan?”

“Don’t call me Tashigi- chan ,” she snarls, much louder, before muttering again, though Sanji can hear it this time, a low, shy, “well, that swordsman of yours did save my life back in Punk Hazard.”

Tashigi blushes brighter, and Sanji knows a lost cause when he sees one.

Zoro and Tashigi have four children this time in his head, three girls and one boy, and it sucks, so fucking unfair that everyone wants to marry Zoro, with his stupid hair and stupid face and stupid everything. What’s so good about him anyways? The moron doesn’t even have depth perception . He doesn’t deserve all these beautiful girls, wouldn’t even be able to cherish them and treat them with love like Sanji would.

Who’s to say that they would know him either? Zoro’s a moron , after all, and he probably only has, like, three sets of expressions. Sure, Sanji can read his tics, knows the way Zoro clenches and unclenches his left hand when he sees a potentially strong opponents, the way Zoro would rub the back of his neck when he’s embarrassed — but these girls don’t know that. He doesn’t think anyone knows that, and without knowing the real Zoro, how could they make him happy? Would they know how to find him when he gets lost? Would they cook him his favorite food every day? Would they love him as much Sanji does —

Wait.

Sanji pauses.

And.

Breathes.

Tashigi has started protesting now, demanding her swords to be returned now that she’s gone along with his ridiculous demands, but it all sounds so distant now, because.

He loves. Zoro.

Sanji inhales. Then exhales.

He loves Zoro .

He sees it again, the dojo at the foot of a hill overlooking the beautiful blue sea, but this time the dojo belongs to Zoro and him , and two of the four children have blonde hair, and the sea outside is All Blue. The imagination seems so vivid because somewhere along the line that has become his dream , a future he envisioned as clearly as finding All Blue and witnessing Luffy become a Pirate King.

Fuck, he’s in love with Zoro.

“Shit,” he says heartily. “I’m in love with Zoro.”

“What?” Tashigi says, perplexed. Sanji hopes it’s because she can’t hear him amidst the cacophony of gunfire, swords, and bodies hitting the floor.

He lowers his leg and steps back, still in shock by the revelation.

Tashigi is looking at him in confusion, or at least he assumes she does, because he’s no longer paying much attention to his surroundings. How could he, when he’s just come to such a huge revelation about himself, holy fucking hell he’s in love with Zoro —

A passing marine takes the chance and stabs a sword through his lungs.

+

8.

The last thing he remembers is choking on air, mentally laughing at the fucked up irony of living on a ship surrounded by endless seas just to meet his end by drowning on dry land. He thinks he saw flashes of metal, of Zoro’s stupid green hair and stupider face, torn apart between anger and concern, Sanji’s name for once stumbled out of his lips — but Sanji is pretty sure he imagined this last part up. He is a romantic fool like that.

He blinks himself awake to the familiar smell of Chopper’s infirmary, the oddly soothing mix of medicine and sweets. He tries to sit up as far as his bandaged torso would allow, and when he catches the orange of Nami’s hair his heart warms but doesn’t flutter. It hasn’t been, he realizes, for quite some time.

He really is in love with Zoro. God damn it.

“Sanji?” Nami says when their eyes finally meet, and she hurriedly stands up, “oh my god, you’re awake, I need to wake Chopper up, Chopper —”

“Don’t worry, Nami-san,” he says, catching her wrist just in time before she rushes out of his reach, “I’m fine. Let our doctor sleep for some time.”

“But,” she says, but it’s a token resistance at best, as she’s already sitting down again. She tugs his grip lightly at that — a small, playful movement — but he feels the pull reverberate through his arm and to his chest, jarring him into a coughing fit.

He thinks he’s coughed up both of his lungs before a glass of water touches his lips. It takes him a few gulps and a couple more deep breaths before he realizes Nami is rambling a guilty “oh my god, Sanji-kun, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

He clears his throat and tries to give her his best smile, “please don’t apologize, Nami-san! A beautiful face like yours shall not be marred with unnecessary worries.”

Nami sighs, but it’s fond. “You were unconscious for a whole week,” she says, squeezing his shoulder, “let me fuss over you for a while.”

Sanji whips his head towards her in shock, mouth hanging open

“A week,” he echoes. No wonder he feels so sluggish. He thought it might have been the medicine, but apparently he danced far too near to the grim reaper than he was comfortable with.

His gaze drifts to take in more of the infirmary, afraid that he’s missed more important details like not remembering an entire week of his life . For the most part everything seems to be in place, large shelves filled with Chopper’s neatly-arranged medical books beside his work table, with complicated looking medical appliances situated more at the corner of the room, near the door. His gaze eventually falls on the small bedside table and he does a double take.

Zoro’s katanas — all three of them — are leaning against the foot of the table. Sanji frowns; it’s rare to see them without their owner, and rarer still to see them being parted with so voluntarily, away from the swordsman's sight.

“Yeah, Zoro was here,” Nami answers the unvoiced question as she notices what he’s been staring at, “been by your bedside all week, actually. We had a roster, just in case you —” Nami pauses at that, looks away and — did her voice waver at the end there? “You know. Anyway, didn’t even need the whole roster thing in the end because Zoro just wouldn’t leave. Stubborn man. Just his luck you woke up when he took a bathroom break; serves him right for growling at me when I offered him to switch on the first day. He looked like he was ready to gouge his remaining eye out and leave it in the infirmary if it meant keeping an eye on you, science be damned.”

Sanji blinks, again, at the story. There’s a weird tug at this chest. He lifts his hand up to touch it, and it feels warm, from the inside.

“It’s frankly kind of cute, how he’s been acting like a mother hen,” Nami continues, and her smile gains a mischievous edge as she adds, “or, you know, like a worried husband.”

Sanji wants to say something to that, but Chopper probably gave him some strong stuff because his tongue feels heavy and he can feel the strong pull of sleep dragging him back to unconsciousness.

He sees darkness at the edges of his vision, and doesn’t think at all as he says, “yeah, he would make a good husband,” and eyes already closed, he sees the house at the foot of the hill and mumbles, “I’d marry him.”

Chopper’s medicine really is strong.

+

9.

The next time Sanji opens his eyes, there’s a cottony rasp on the inside of his mouth and dread looming at the back of his mind. It’s reminiscent of days when they partied too hard and he drank one too many glasses of liquor, but worse , because he remembers every single word he said to Nami.

He considers asking Chopper on his stance on euthanasia.

It doesn’t help that the person sitting beside his bed is not the ever-beautiful, ever-wonderful Nami, but the last person he’d rather see after his accidental confession. He has no doubt that Nami has told Zoro everything — has told everyone everything — and while his body has mostly recovered from the injuries, he’s pretty sure he could still die from embarrassment.

He sits up on the bed, scrambling for an excuse, “Zoro —”

“You almost died,” Zoro interrupts before Sanji could even finish his sentence, and takes Sanji’s hand in his. “Don’t you dare do that again, Shit Cook.”

Sanji stares at their hands, and wonders if Chopper’s medicine is even stronger than he thought. “What does it mean to you?”

Zoro shrugs. “You know what,” he answers vaguely.

Sanji doesn’t , though. Zoro shifts in his seat, looking away, seemingly embarrassed by his own words, and Sanji is left wondering what the fuck is happening. Zoro is the type of person who gives brutally honest and oftentimes insensitive answers. He doesn’t give cryptic, vague answers — that’s more of Sanji’s department. “What?”

Zoro pulls his hand away, and Sanji hates how his own hand feels very cold all of a sudden. “You know. Our answers for Usopp’s stupid game.”

Sanji would rather take another sword to the chest than to continue with this conversation, so he does the cowardly thing and practically leaps out of the bed. “I’m not in the mood to talk about that.”

Zoro is faster, though — Sanji is blaming all the medicines in his bloodstream for his slow reaction — and manages to catch Sanji by the wrist. “Where are you going?”

“Away. Out.” He pats his pockets with his free hand, but doesn’t find his cigarettes, unsurprisingly. Fuck, he needs a smoke. “In case you forgot, I haven’t been out for a week from this shitty room.”

“Seriously?” Zoro growls in reply, tightening his grip. “That’s all you got to say? Didn’t you pay for my answers? Nami told me you — if that sea witch is lying again —”

“I told you not to call Nami-san like that,” he replies, almost instinctively, feeling more and more agitated by the turn of the conversation. “What the fuck are you talking about, brainless mosshead.”

Zoro glowers at him, face oddly serious. “Did you or did you not get my answers for the stupid game?”

Sanji is going to lose it. Is Zoro seriously trying to rub this whole thing in his face? The fact that Sanji wants to marry him, even after knowing Zoro only puts him under kill? Knowing that Zoro doesn’t find him desirable in any way, that he’d prefer having three wonderful well-mannered kids with a beautiful marine lady?

“You put me under KILL!” He yells, unable to stop himself. “If this is your way of telling me you want to kill me, drop it. Way too roundabout for your style, Marimo. And just in case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t bother to find out who you want to fuck. Or marry.” He looks away, trying not to choke on his own heart. “Happy?”

Zoro’s eyes widen comically at that, and he loosens his grip on Sanj’s wrist in surprise; Sanji doesn’t miss the chance and kicks him on the chest.

Zoro flies out of the infirmary through the door with a satisfying bang , and Sanji relishes his victory for a moment before growing reluctantly concerned as Zoro doesn’t get up from that. Surely he didn’t kick him that hard, did he? He jogs towards the dust-covered body on the deck, and finds Zoro with his head in his hand, mouth twisting into a hysterical laughter.

“Stupid cook,” Zoro says as soon as Sanji’s close enough to hear him, “are you jealous?”

Sanji growls, and pointedly doesn’t blush. “I’m going to kill you.”

When Zoro drops his hand and looks up, he doesn’t look like he’s making fun of Sanji, though. He looks surprised, and even almost… hopeful? “You are jealous.”

Sanji has about a thousand retorts to that, but all of them die in his lips as Zoro tugs him down by the hand, pulling him to crouch right in front of Zoro. Their faces are really close like this, and Sanji can’t look away.

“Cook,” Zoro says when Sanji doesn’t say anything, “Nami said you put me under your MARRY. Is that true?”

Sanji refuses to answer, but the way he looks away and blushes like a fourteen-year-old is probably a good enough answer for Zoro. Zoro laughs, tightens his grip on Sanji’s wrist and pulls him into a kiss.

Sanji’s life needs to have fewer twists before he dies from heart attack at the tender age of twenty-one.

When they part, Zoro doesn’t lean away; presses their foreheads together instead, his hand large and warm on the nape of Sanji’s neck. There’s a big grin plastered across Zoro’s flushed face, the kind that Sanji only sees whenever the swordsman comes across an alcohol he likes, or wins a particularly hard fight, or — as Sanji begins to understand, heart hammering in his chest like it’s trying to escape — whenever Zoro is really, really happy, apparently. And to think that Sanji is the one who puts that smile on Zoro’s face —

“I put you under MARRY, you dumbass,” Zoro says, though his insult doesn’t carry much weight, considering the stupid grin still wouldn’t leave his face. “Put you under everything , Cook. Kill, fuck, marry — the whole deal. Because that’s how far you’ve messed me up — you idiot, stupid, annoying, oblivious Shit Cook,” he presses another kiss, chaste and light and all too quick, leaving tingling sensations on Sanji’s lips. “I am in love with you.”

The words rattle against Sanji’s ribcage, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. His face feels warm all over, and he’d look away, except for the fact that Zoro’s hands are gently cupping his face, thumb rubbing absentmindedly against Sanji’s cheek.

“You’d make the shittiest husband ever,” Sanji tells him, because Zoro might be the love of his life — and ain’t that a thought that could make his heart miss a couple of beats — but he still wouldn’t miss a chance to tease Zoro.

“Yeah.” Zoro simply agrees at that, laughing softly. “I’d be your shittiest husband, though.”

Sanji doesn’t find a reason to argue with that, heart jackrabbiting against his chest, and simply leans for another kiss.

+

10.

By unanimous decision, and with some heavy censorship by replacing FUCK with SLEEP, they decided that Chopper is at least old and human enough to know what’s going on with the game.

“I’m not happy at all that you decided to finally include me in the game, bastard!” Chopper said with a happy wiggle, his hooves clapping together excitedly.

He puts Zoro under SLEEP. Literally. Chopper thinks Zoro makes a great pillow, and a great sleeping partner because he doesn’t move around.

Chopper purses his lips at MARRY.

“The idea of human marriage is still foreign to me,” he says, explaining his silence, “there are too many factors involved in human marriage. For us reindeers, all we look for in a mate is one who can provide us food.”

As if on cue, Zoro throws a large fish onto the deck. There are three large slashes on its belly, crossing through its gills.

Chopper picks Zoro for MARRY.

Sanji resists the urge to bash his head repeatedly on the ship mast, and doesn’t go through with it only because Zoro leans in and steals a kiss from him, effectively blocking his path.

Bastard. Shittiest husband ever .

[marigoldbaker]

regarding honor and honesty in the workplace (11/?)

read on ao3!

this chapter: jenny attends a lecture and kisses lilah some more.

from the personal files of Jenny Calendar:

Back to the grind, I guess, now with the added stress of the fact that my partner got clocked with some kind of blunt object and refuses to get his head checked out at the doctor’s because he’s a fucking idiot and absolutely never listens to me when I tell him to take care of himself. He says it’s fine, but, like, he could at least CHECK so I wasn’t WORRYING all the time and maybe I need to stop writing these things immediately after arguments with Rupert. Generally, they just turn into extended vents about either him not listening to me or him claiming that I’m not listening to him. Our arguments follow a pretty similar pattern at this point.

He does seem to be okay, though I’m more than a little bit worried about him. As much as I like Lilah, I sometimes get the sense that I’m not the thing about Calendar-Giles Investigations she cares about most—I’m the only thing about Calendar-Giles-Investigations she cares about at all. And that’s difficult, because that means that Lilah won’t be as focused on protecting Rupert as she is on protecting me, and—and I’m not good with the thought of Rupert getting hurt. It freaks me out. This world has fucked with him often enough, it doesn’t need to literally hit him with blunt objects to get the point across, and what happens when Wolfram and Hart decides he’s a liability that needs to be neutralized?

Okay. Spiraling. Definitely don’t need to go there. We’re going to solve this case and get Lilah her witnesses and take down Wolfram and Hart and that’s it. That’s all.

“Winifred Burkle,” Jenny read off the pamphlet, “the youngest physics professor in California history—whoa, she’s only a year older than you all. Food for thought, guys.”

“Oh, Professor Burkle?” Willow’s voice was suddenly high and excited. “She’s—I mean, I’m not in her class, but she’s a living legend! And super pretty, and once I sat in on one of her lectures, and—”

“Ease up, soldier, your girlfriend’s in the car,” Xander pointed out, gesturing over towards an amused Buffy.

“I’m not dating a teacher,” said Willow, sounding affronted, “that’s against my moral code.” Hastily, she added, “Also I have the prettiest, kindest, most kickass girlfriend in the world, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Buffy agreed.

“Hopefully you two will keep your romantic musings to yourselves during this lecture,” said Rupert pointedly, making a left turn. “I’d like for Professor Burkle to think at least semi-decently of us before we approach her to discuss Wolfram and Hart.”

“I promise I’ll behave, Giles!” said Willow immediately.

“That is a surprising amount of conviction from a girl who’s hot for her teacher,” Buffy teased, and immediately shrieked as Willow tackled her to cover her face with kisses. “Aaah, Will, this is anti-behaving! This is exactly what Giles said not to do! This—”

“Lord, give me strength,” said Rupert as Jenny started laughing. “And you,” he added to Jenny, “are supposed to be my partner. You’re just reading off pamphlets and encouraging romantic trysts in the backseat of my car.”

“Wow, you’re melodramatic,” Jenny observed, biting down a last giggle. “Buffy, Willow, cool it back there, okay? This is an academic lecture we’re all going to. I want this to be a learning experience.”

“Are there snacks?” Xander asked hopefully.

“No,” said Rupert, sounding very much at the end of his rope. “This is case work.”

“Rupert brings up a good point!” Jenny added, remembering belatedly that she had been in the middle of briefing the kids. “Okay, so Lilah said on the list that Professor Burkle isn’t even on Wolfram and Hart’s scope right now, but that she wants to be as thorough as possible in protecting anyone with useful information. This is actually the lowest-risk part of the case, but—”

“But it is still important to behave,” Rupert said pointedly. Belatedly, he tacked on, “Please.”

Tara and Faith were currently under the watch of a fiercely protective Anya, who Jenny was fairly certain would seriously hurt any Wolfram and Hart intruder trying to snag Tara. Technically, Faith could have come to the lecture as well, but Rupert’s car only had so many seats, and Faith had used that as an excuse to spend some more time with a not-at-all-displeased Tara. Anya kept on sending Jenny way too many texts about things that didn’t even slightly relate to Tara or Faith’s welfare, so Jenny had put her phone decisively on silent in preparation for the lecture.

As they pulled into the parking lot, Jenny caught sight of a familiar black car. “Oh,” she said, delighted, and unbuckled her seatbelt, opening the door and jumping out of the car before it was done moving. Ignoring Rupert’s alarmed “good lord, Jenny!” she crossed the parking lot at a brisk walk, beaming when she saw Lilah getting out of the car.

“Jenny,” said Lilah, sounding genuinely delighted.

“Hi,” said Jenny, distantly aware of the fact that she was smiling like an idiot.

“For the love of god,” called Rupert from behind both of them, “do not jump out of a moving car, I don’t care how pretty your girlfriend is.”

“Shut up,” Jenny called over her shoulder. Stepping closer to Lilah, she said shyly, “It’s good to see you. You here for case work too?”

“Well, this is Professor Burkle’s first lecture in quite a while,” Lilah answered. The easy grace was still there, but at girlfriend, a slow blush had begun. “Call it idle curiosity.”

Jenny bit her lip, then took Lilah’s hand. Lilah gave her a surprised smile as Jenny led them both over to Rupert’s now-parked car, where Rupert was looking a mixture of exasperated and exhausted. “Jenny,” he said very reprovingly.

“I know, I know, blah blah don’t jump out of moving cars blah blah personal safety blah,” said Jenny helpfully. Next to her, Lilah laughed, the same almost-surprised sound; Jenny considered for the first time that Lilah wasn’t a person who was used to finding things genuinely funny. “Rupert, this is Lilah, you met her, we kissed a lot outside Caritas and I’m hoping she’ll let me take her out again.”

“That’s Lilah?” said Buffy loudly from the backseat, leaning across Willow and Xander to stare out the window. “Oh my god, she’s super hot!”

“Wow, she really is!” Willow sounded quite impressed. “Way to go, Jenny.”

“My daughter Buffy,” said Rupert somewhat long-sufferingly. “And cohorts.”

“Wow,” said Lilah, sounding a mixture of impressed and strangely sad. “You two really do have a family business.”

“Well, like you said, this one’s a low-risk event,” Jenny explained, “and it makes a pretty good cover to have a bunch of college students with us attending a lecture, especially if one is Rupert’s kid.” Buffy had busied herself with whispering semi-audibly to Willow and Xander about Lilah. Jenny decided to leave the kids alone for now, turning to Lilah and saying, “Hey, you want to sit with us? Or is that too obvious for Wolfram and Hart, us being associated—”

“I did mention I’m seeing someone,” Lilah answered with a small smile, and kissed a startled Jenny on the cheek. “I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch.”

They’d intended to sit as a group and wait for the lecture to start, but what actually ended up happening was Rupert gently shepherding the children to the opposite side of the large lecture hall and telling Jenny over her shoulder to “have a good time, dear,” which was ridiculously sweet of him. Jenny would definitely have to remember to thank him for that later, because Lilah then took that opportunity to pull them surreptitiously out of the hall and into a nearby broom closet.

“Classy,” said Jenny.

“We have five minutes, if I’ve estimated correctly,” said Lilah.

“Is this all I’m good for?” Jenny teased, winding her arms around Lilah’s neck and feeling dizzyingly happy. “Secluded makeout sessions in various public places?”

“Well, I’m a busy lady,” Lilah replied, and she was smiling in the exact same delighted way as she pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of Jenny’s mouth. “And I’m not all that great at propositioning people like you.”

“People like me,” Jenny echoed, frowning more out of curiosity than apprehension. “What does that mean?”

“People who are honest,” said Lilah, fingertips lightly tracing Jenny’s cheek. “I can’t—I don’t want to use subterfuge and trickery to get you into my bed.” She ducked her head, smiling almost bitterly. “You’re worth something to me, I think,” she said. “I’m not used to that.”

Jenny felt a nervous twist in her chest. She wasn’t used to that either. “Listen,” she said, trying to shift the conversation to lighter terrain. “Not that I don’t like the romance of that sentiment, but we’ve got four and a half minutes till we’ve gotta get back into that lecture hall. You going to make the most of that time?”

Lilah smiled slowly. “I’ll try not to leave any marks,” she said, and pushed Jenny’s leather jacket off and down to the floor, lifting Jenny up off her feet as they kissed. “Oh my god,” Lilah murmured, “you’re sexy as hell, but you’re so tiny.”

Jenny started laughing against Lilah’s mouth. “I don’t know how to take that,” she murmured, tangling her hands in Lilah’s hair and kissing her with sweet intensity. “Is that good?”

“It’s—yes.” Lilah was smiling. “It’s perfect.”

There wasn’t much talking in the closet, after that.

When Jenny and Lilah stepped gracefully and nonchalantly out four-and-a-half minutes later, both of them had taken great pains to hide the five-and-a-half lipstick marks on Jenny’s neck. “Why do you buy the expensive stuff,” Jenny was giggle-whispering as they entered the lecture hall, “this kind of thing takes forever to get off. I’ll be showering for hours.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad to me,” said Lilah significantly, slipping her hand into Jenny’s.

“You’re the worst,” Jenny told her, finding them both seats in the back row.

Two rows ahead of them and one row to the right, Jenny saw Rupert turn his head very slightly to glance surreptitiously over at them. Lilah was now methodically reapplying her lipstick, and Jenny watched as Rupert’s eyes moved to her. Subtly, he motioned to his collar.

Jenny’s hands hastily flitted to adjust the neckline of her shirt, where one of Lilah’s lipstick smudges was visible. Thanks, she mouthed.

Rupert inclined his head in response, then made a kissy face.

“Oh, ha ha,” said Jenny a bit louder than she’d intended. More than a few people turned to stare.

“Very smooth,” Lilah teased, tucking the lipstick and compact back into her purse. “Is this partner-related?”

“He’s such a five-year-old,” said Jenny affectionately, watching Rupert turn back to the kids. It kind of looked like he was trying to dissuade Xander from eating Willow’s vending machine snacks—no, wait, he was confiscating the vending machine snacks. That made sense too. “But he’s a great dad.”

Lilah, frowning a little, looked like she was about to say something, but just then, the lights dimmed. Turning back into her seat, she placed her hand almost possessively on Jenny’s shoulder, glancing one more time at Rupert before a tall, slight young girl stumbled nervously onstage.

“Um, hello and welcome?” she said tentatively, stepping forward and up to the podium. “Uh, this is, it’s my first time doin’ the whole, the, the public speaking thing in a while, but—” She cleared her throat, smoothing down her hair with shaky hands. “Well, as y’all know, my name’s Professor Burkle—Winifred Burkle, actually, though my friends call me Fred—and I’m here to talk to you about quantum physics! The Pylea Theory, to be specific.”

“Poor thing,” said Lilah, already sounding a little bored. “It’s clear she’s not cut out for a crowd like this.”

“Play nice,” Jenny reminded Lilah, leaning in, and was distracted by the floral scent of Lilah’s perfume. Without really thinking, she pressed a furtive kiss to Lilah’s neck.

“Jenny!” said Lilah, her voice a high whisper. Thankfully, it wasn’t too audible, but Jenny thought she saw Rupert’s head turn. “God, you’re insatiable.”

“Says the woman who dragged me into a broom closet,” Jenny pointed out.

“This is a lecture, Jenny, there’s no place for making out here.”

“You sound like Rupert,” Jenny quipped.

Lilah’s eyes widened. “Wait,” she said slowly. “Are you two—”

Jenny played back what she’d just said, realized what she’d implied, and felt herself blushing a positively shocking shade of red. “Oh my god,” she managed. “We’re not—what do you think—Rupert and I don’t make out in lectures, Lilah.”

“So you’re saying you and Rupert make out in other places?” Lilah said, sounding only half-joking.

“Rupert and I don’t make out at all,” said Jenny very loudly. Nearly the entire lecture hall turned to stare at them, including a bewildered-looking Rupert. Jenny debated whether or not she could just run to the car and drive off, remembered that Rupert was the one with the car keys, and decided to just settle for slowly dying of mortification in the lecture hall.

“We should go outside,” said Lilah. “Should we—um, sorry,” she called over her shoulder to a confused Professor Burkle, grabbing Jenny’s hand and pulling them both out of the lecture hall.

“Lilah,” Jenny began as soon as they were outside, feeling a strange bubble of panic in her chest. “Rupert and I have never—why would you—”

Lilah exhaled, hard, then said, “Look, this is—this is going to be extremely difficult on me, and I don’t like doing this at all, but I want to talk honestly to you about my feelings.”

Jenny almost started laughing (most likely a combination of the lingering embarrassment and the fact that there would be at least five lawyer jokes that right now seemed really appropriate) but managed to hold it together, at least enough to say, “Is this about—me and Rupert? I don’t—”

“You two have kids,” said Lilah, who seemed to be deliberately avoiding Jenny’s gaze.

“Adopted,” said Jenny, “on both counts, it’s not like we had an actual baby together—”

“I like you,” said Lilah, all but forcing the words out. All of a sudden, she seemed angry and nervous, not at all the easily-smiling, charismatic woman who had won Jenny over without even trying. “And—and it’s really fucking up a lot of the plans I’m supposed to be carrying out, plans I can’t even tell you about, and the way you talk about Rupert, the way you talk to Rupert, it makes me feel like my liking you is absolutely pointless. And I hate that. And I really, really hate that I’m telling you this.”

Jenny felt a warm flutter in her chest. Sure, she knew that Lilah liked her, but she hadn’t realized that Lilah actually cared. “Okay,” she said, and smiled, relieved. “That’s—that makes a lot of sense. Um, you have to understand that Rupert and I are very important to each other—”

“No shit, Sherlock,” said Lilah, who now looked like she was somewhat regretting saying anything at all.

“—but,” said Jenny, and took Lilah’s hands carefully in hers, “you have to also trust me when I say that you’re important to me too. Maybe it doesn’t seem as easy or as natural as my friendship with Rupert, but he and I have known each other for years, and we’ve been through a lot of shit together. I’m not that—” She exhaled. “Fuck,” she said, laughing uncomfortably, “now I get to talk about my feelings. Okay.”

Lilah smiled a little. “Go on.”

Jenny bit her lip, then said, “I’m not that great at balancing my work life with my personal life, particularly because they’re so closely intertwined. It, uh, makes a lot of sense that,” she hesitated, then said, “that the person I’ve felt the closest to, romantically, would end up being one of my clients.”

Lilah’s eyes widened.

“Is that too much pressure?”

Lilah shook her head. Then she said, “You want to get out of here?”

[ryderdire]

Marcy tries to make her self useful most the season but she’s in a world she has no idea how it works she’s still recovering physically and emotionally and eda is an actually responsible adult who doesn’t try to make her prove herself at any point

Her arc is mostly about trust specifically towards eda Regret and learning she doesn’t need to be Usalful to have worth

Her and hunter get a heart to heart at some point i would LOVE to give them a full “episode” but I don’t wanna mess with the episode codes further, I was able to keep them mostly intact but still maybe a B plot somewhere?

Marcy is able to relate to hunter in a way no one else can

She goes in hollow mind she and Luz are both with eda that night and she sees Luz run off and decides what the hell and follows her

So Marcy is the one who does most of the “your uncles a bitch” talk to hunter. Luz does to but Marcy is MUCH more istsnt on it pointing out the fucked up ahit their stories have in common

She points out how he put massive pressure into hunter and the fact he’s basically a child soilder and how he purposely put him into dangerous situations on MANY OCCASIONS

One of the memories they enter has andrais in it and Marcy just completely stops. Like she freezes. she hasn’t seen him since she escaped and clearly this is an older memory.

Luz didn’t know about andrais she doesn’t know what confection he has to Marcy

Hunter knows about andrais and how he’s allies with Belos

In the Memory andrais is clearly shown to be horrible, and hunter tries really hard to justify his uncle working with andrais.

Marcy and Hunter argue about it, which cathes the pallismin spirits attentions which leads to them running away luz tries to mediate it doesn’t go well.

Tensions are high

That is until they make it to the golden guard hall

We all know how the rest goes

When Marcy and hunter and Luz make it out of the hollow mind scape (hehehe) Luz asks Marcy who andrais is she just looks at her and then hunter runs off

Blah episode end

Next episode

So Luz and Marcy tell eda everything (marcy leaves out the stabbing and possession) Eda reacts basically the same with a side of wtf and I wanna murder a giant salamander

Luz had been somewhat aware of Marcy’s past issaki adventures but never knew the full story and everyone is just freaking out

Anyway Lillth shows up and goes “holy shit you did adopt another human hooty wasn’t kidding and omg Phillip is Belos”

Kings letter comes they convince eda to go

Luz is surprised at Marcy’s skill on a ship so is the captain she comments she misses yunan

Marcy gets her own plot because reasons so king deals with being a titan Luz tries to rob a bitch and Marcy feels guilt knowing the dou is only so near because she opened the box allowing for all of this to happen, she ends up talking to Darius

Hear me out Darius is the anti andrais

Besties who stopped talking to him and he feels betrayed by

Closes himself off emotionally

Seems really rude is actually a softie

Dead mentor figure who actually helped him more then hurt him

Actually wants to help

Purple

Never once considered stabbing a child

Is very like professional and ruley but deep down cares DEEPLy about his loved ones

Basically he takes her over to the base and it all comes together

Clouds Luz and Marcy go

Hunter talks with Marcy and Luz abot the whole grim thing they both know and Marcy tells him it’s best he tells them because keeping a secret like that could only serve to pull them apart

Marcy tells odallia she’s a bitch at some point

Episode goes the same EXEPCt kikimora Tries to get both Marcy and hunter seeing as Belos had been wanting to get Marcy for a while

Kikimora gets hunter(Luz) and nearly gets Marcy who only escapes by like a hair and probably gets hurt in the process bc I’m a bitch

Now finally we arrive at kings tide

Amphibia x toh au (im calling it the allied tyrants au) a draft of like what The main villains are up to

Okay so this is rushed First off honestly I’m just bored and I wanna throw some thoughts out there into the world

Andrais and Belos are allies up until pink frogo stole the box cutting off communications between the two mad tyrants

When andrais gets the box he contacts Belos who is still trying to get his portal up and running and despite everything andrais doesn’t know exactly where the boiling ilses is so they decide to wait on invasions/ taking over for magic.

The procheys diffent here as well

“three stars and one witch who loves the wild and the light

Come from beyond

Should they fight? or embrace the fall?

Their choice will determine all

So this is part of the reason Belos in this au hates wild magic it is assumed “witch who loves the wild and the light” refers to a wild witch

In Amphibia magic is strictly bans from larger cities but it’s difficult to enforce in small towns just to be safe

Any magic beyond simple spells are really hard to find there used to be levels beyond the first three but almost all knowagle on them was destroyed in amphibia

At one point there was a portal and pretty liberal travel between Amphibia and the boling ilses but that time has long sicne past

Belos and andrais worked together on the core infusing it with Titans blood at one point

Andrais has some left from when the portals where permeatally opend and it ends up going into Darcy. Giving her a power up to her suit and some spooky powers.

Okay that’s all I have

[its8simplejulesblog]

I Hate Math

If you know me at all, it’s obvious. As much as I loved robotics it sure as hell wasn’t for the engineering and physics side of things and I think if anyone took one glance at me during meetings sometimes that would be readily apparent. I do, however, have a love for economics and statistics which, in their very nature are mathematically rooted, however, it’s ~social~ math. This means, in my humble opinion, that it’s the only math with any practical application in real life (sorry to anyone that liked calculus). When I had my internship in Philly last summer I did a lot of excel work on statistics for relative improvement of teachers over the course of a summer training session. I loved it, but it was a running joke that I would often complain about math while I was sitting there “coding” (they even decorated our dorms one day and my nickname was Julia “I like statistics but not math” Larock) whatever guys *rolls eyes* 

The previous meme is me in any math class ever. However, when I’m in an econ or stat class, I’m in my element. So, you can imagine my (strange) excitement to take international economics of developing countries this summer (why are all polysci class titles so damn long). AnYwaY, I was excited. Actually, it was a mixture of excitement about the topics and dreading having to do work again, but you can’t have one without the other. With that being said, my experience during our first class today was a little bit out of the ordinary for me. 

My sophomore year at the University of Delaware I took a pretty introductory writing course. Our final was to write a long af research paper about virtually any topic of interest so I chose the effects of diversity in the field of education. This has been a topic that especially interested me at UD because when you look around it really looks like there is none haha. For a lot of people, white people, it really doesn’t matter because that’s not something you notice. However, I swear that there is also a large chunk of us that notice and are uncomfortable by it. 

At the time of writing this paper I interviewed the university’s dean of diversity and inclusion. She was a sweet woman and while I was initially a little bit nervous to interview her, by the end of the interview I had no fears and was really railing on the school’s apparent failures to harbor a more inclusive environment (fitting, huh). At the time of the interview, the student body was about 73% white and the dean told me and showed me the inclusivity plan for the following years. It’s been a year and a half since then, and now we’re at 68% I want to say. 

It’s easy to say, “wow, an improvement,” and move on with your life. However, if you know anything about statistics and asking basic inquisitive questions you would know that you could never make that claim without follow up questions. I remember the dean telling me that they were simultaneously planning on taking a smaller incoming class of freshmen and when one class graduates and you introduce a smaller class of freshmen of COURSE it’s going to look like the diversity went up. Your sample size is smaller. I may be a blubbering idiot at math, but I can tell you that with absolute certainty. 

In light of the recent protests and my recent blog post about the racist sorority fiasco, many UD students have been called out for other racist remarks, however, there are also students that are workings towards change. I’ve included a link below to a letter to our Dean of Admissions in making changes to the exclusive, ignorant, and sometimes cruel behavior that has previously been tolerated at the university. Please read and sign it if you can. 

So today, when I discovered that I was one of two white girls in my economics class I was truly floored. That’s almost unheard of at UD. Was I slightly uncomfortable? Yes, that’s ingratiated in me by society. However, I’m taking it as a learning experience to FINALLY be the minority for once. I don’t think I’ve ever had a class as diverse as this at UD and I love it. 

You would think this would be basic knowledge, but in my research I included that racially and sexually diverse classrooms lead to an increase in discussion, not just “blah blah blah vague comment that doesn’t make sense yet everyone agrees with it,” but ACTUAL, uncomfortable discussions that make people question well..everything. The only thing about that is, it’ll only happen if people are brave enough to speak out (and considering participation being such a big part of your grade, I’m pretty sure that will happen) 

The interesting part about that is, I had an internal dialogue in my head that I’ve never had before. Normally in classroom settings I’m a raving teacher’s pet. I always do my work on time and ask questions and participate and add to the discussion, I’m not really afraid to say what I think. However, today, my initial reaction was, “no matter what, I’m sure that everyone already pegged me as the dumb bitch that doesn’t know what she’s in for. She won’t understand anything.” 

The demographic of the class is a majority white men, followed by asian men, followed by black men, then like two black girls and two asian girls and one other white girl and me so I KNOW that I’m going to be talked over and not taken seriously. I’m used to it, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stand for it. I can’t wait to be argumentative (mwahha). 

At the end of the day, I know that being white, in the long run, still means that I have ridiculous privilege but in this class, I’m so intrigued to see how being different affects how I’m treated. Of course, it’s more of a “social experiment” for me and I in no way want to devalue the inequities that minorities face every day, but I truly believe that everyone should be a minority in some social situation at some point in their life in order to feel the empathy that is so sorely lost on this country currently. 

So, in the future of my economics class I know that I will have to be very careful about what I say because I need to prove my intellect qualifies me to maintain a spot in this class that already has a growing waitlist. If I say one spineless thing without fact to back it up then everyone’s false impressions of me will be reaffirmed and that’s something that minorities have to think about every day. It must be exhausting to constantly be on guard in terms of a stereotype that you’re so desperately trying not to confirm. My mom had the same issues as a chemical engineer. She was constantly pushed to the side and told that she was too pretty for her work (this is why I’m a feminist now, but that’s another discussion..we love equality haha). 

Keep going after what you’re passionate about people. We all deserve to pursue our interests.

Link to UD diversity petition 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/19v5-1dkCK5dUqxcpPn-e0uVNNaT42I7wGE8MnlMNc_Y/edit?usp=sharing&usp=embed_facebook

-Julia 

[bfxavivir-blog]

things that annoy me in Be More Chill (the novel)

michael only dated asian girls?? what the fuck?

no other character besides jeremy and rich get character development (not including the squip, ill get to that later)

michael not only lied to jeremy about not knowing what the squip was, but he also never even thought to tell him what could fucking happen to him if he took it??

jeremy started out as a passive aggressive asshole, and then he became a confident asshole that didn't learn a fucking lesson besides "hm maybe it's better to be a nerd??". for the most part, that's all the character development he gets throughout the novel

CHRISTINE WAS TRICKED INTO LIKING JEREMY!!! sorry sweaty, but it was extremely obvious that she didn't like JEREMY, but instead she liked the SQUIP pretending to be a "chill" version of jeremy. their relationship won't fucking last because jeremy doesn't know how to treat women and christine is gonna call him out on it

we were suddenly supposed to feel bad for rich and jake(?) once the house burned? yes, it was an established suicide and that was fucking harrowing to piece together, but we weren't given enough time to develop attachments to the characters. if we were given more story behind them instead of just "rich has squip. he suddenly likes jeremy. oh shit it turns out he's extremely suicidal because he feels like no one really likes him" then i feel like it would've 1. made the ending way better and 2. helped us grasp even more exactly how fucking dangerous the squip is

the sQUIP IS FUCKING EVIL AND I'M JUST GONNA SAY THAT IF MICHAEL KNEW ABOUF THAT AND SO DID RICH THEN THEY PROBABLY SHOULDVE TOLD JEREMY!!! (unless they were isolated incidents...? or with the case of rich, caused mental illnesses (or character flaws in the case of jeremy) to become even worse?)

a lot of the kids having sex were underage? they were (from what i can remember) sophomores, and uh. no thanks. (considering how into detail the book went into some things, not only was i disgusted that a grown man was writing explicit sex scenes between two fifteen year olds, but it was also just extremely awkward in general because they're fucking FIFTEEN! that's kind of illegal!!)

there were a few antisemitic remarks in the novel about michael's hair and other students from what i can recall (please correct me if im wrong, it's been about two months)

SLUT SHAMING!!!

self harm is treated as a fucking joke/taboo goth kink in a party scene in the book.

the ending felt and WAS extremely rushed. few questions were answered if any, and it didn't feel real. it felt like the shit they all went through was a fever dream, and it wasn't well paced at all. it suddenly went from "drink code red to Kill Keanu Reeves" to "To Christine: I Fucked Up" within like five fucking pages?? sorry sweaty but there shouldve been SO MANY THINGS TALKED ABOUT!! why the hell did michael lie to jeremy? if michael and jeremy are treated the same at school, why did only one of them get the squip (assuming michael knew what it was but didn't know the city sequences?)

there are more things, but this is enough for now. excuse any typos, blah blah. also, if y'all know anything or if i missed something, feel free to tell me! i probably missed something in the story and that could explain why somethings were so wild

[dork-empress]

So, I’ve talked a bit about what I would do if I could make my own Star Trek Series but last night I was talking with my Dad about what I’d do if I was in charge of the Reboot Series, aka what would become Discovery.

I’m going off the assumption that A) studios want it to be in the reboot universe, B) I have no CONTROL over the movie reboots C) The studio will want this new series to have strong ties to the reboot movies ‘cause that’s their main franchise blah blah blah. 

Essentially, this is me just straight-up re-doing Discovery, and re-naming everything. 

So, Here is Star Trek: Spirit

We start with our premise: If you’ve seen Star Trek The Movie you are aware that Romulans came from the future and killed Kirk’s father and destroyed Vulcan, leaving few Vulcans left. 

So here’s our series, 50 years AFTER the events of the movies (’cause its been about 50 years since the original series aired). Things between Starfleet and the Romulans are...tense. Like, Present-Day Romulus wasn’t really involved with the destruction of Vulcan, as far as anyone knows, but...the ship of future-romulans were sitting around for like, 20 years, and no one knows what they were doing. Many suspect that they took refuge with their own people, and possibly even passed along future tech to the present-day Romulans. 

Recently there’s been even more stirrings, rumors that the Romulans are preparing for war. Star Fleet Intelligence, decides to take action, so they start to organize a spy mission.

The official position is that the Star Ship USS Vigilance is assigned to patrol the neutral zone, and put in place to study any phenomena that happens in neutral space. 

Secretly, though, the Vigilance is a home base for a small ship, bigger than a shuttle but smaller than a battle ship, the spy ship, Blackbird Class, USS Spirit. The true wonder of the Spirit: It’s armed with starfleet’s first cloaking device.

(yeah I know the Defiant had a cloaking device, but the Romulans knew about it and also that series is not in the reboot.)

(Yes the ship is named for double meaning of Spirit like, confidence and attitude and then also like a ghost in that its invisible)

Lets talk characters. I’m actually inclined to use a lot of Discovery’s characters, but....modified.

For instance, instead of Michael Burnham, our main character played by Sonequa Martin Green is T’Shala Uhura. Yup, that Uhura. T’Shala is the daughter of Spock and Uhura (Even if you don’t like the pairing, consider: Guest Star Nichelle Nichols). The name T’Shala is a vulcanization of the Swahili name Tishala which means “One who is Strong Willed” and lets face it, that has to fit any kid of Uhura and Spock. 

T’Shala is 1/4 Vulcan, making her one of the few Vulcans left in Star Fleet, as most are focused on trying to rebuild their community (Spock for one has retired, trying to help out) T’Shala herself has never seen Vulcan, and has pretty well separated herself from a lot of the ideas of emotionless-ness. Without that logical control, though, she’s susceptible to Vulcan bouts of emotional instability. She does look somewhat Vulcan, which allows her to pass as Romulan, a useful skill when commanding the Spirit. Her official position is the first officer of the Vigilance, but she’s really the commander of the Spirit. 

Then we have the rest of the crew, that actually, surprisingly, I’m going to keep close to the crew of Discovery. Maybe the actors could switch around, maybe they wouldn’t, but with some minor reshuffling I think it could work. 

Captain Lorca, for instance, can still be Captain, just of the Vigilance this time. He’s a battle-worn veteran who’s suspicious as hell of the Romulans, quick to draw, BUT he is fiercely protective of his crew. He will put himself on the line for the lowliest ensign, and in fact, that’s often what gets him most in trouble with Star Fleet, his unwilling-ness to keep distance with his crew. The way Discovery presents his photosensitivity is...odd, to me, too. Just with his whole space-eyes thing. I recommend he have like, space wheelchair. Could use prosthetics sometimes, but I have this vivid scene in my head of T’Shala being shown around the Vigilance and asking “Where’s the Captain’s Chair?” and then Lorca hovers in. 

Saru is demoted out of starfleet and becomes the Vigilance’s official Ambassador, a civilian, and terrified of conflict, is well suited to Diplomacy. He and Lorca get in a lot of debates about Federation procedure. As a general rule, he doesn’t like even the existence of the Spirit, but accepts it as a part of Star Fleet’s decision. 

Stamets and Dr. Culber can stay pretty much as they are except Culber is more of a main character, please, and has his own unique relationships with people other than Stamets. Stamets also somewhat doubles as science officer. At some point, they encounter a dangerous space alien creature that Stamets will adopt as a pet, driving Culber up the wall. Culber looks after it anyways because he loves his BF and doesn’t want to hurt anyone. 

LANDRY IS STILL ALIVE please. I think I want to keep her as Security officer/Tactical Officer, hard as nails and Lorca’s right hand. But don’t worry, we’re not getting rid of...

Ash Tyler. He was a prisoner of the Romulans for years, and maybe gets rescued by T’Shala herself, and brought back. He’s a skilled pilot, or something, and often will pilot the Spirit on its missions, as he’s the one most familiar with Romulan space, tactics, and culture from his time as prisoner. 

Then Tilly, of course. Tilly is an Ensign who works in Engineering under Stamets, but often times, she is trusted to be the engineer for the Spirit, and so will often accompany T’Shala on her missions. They become fast friends. She’s also explicitly neuroatypical, I don’t know in what sense, but....she is. 

Now lets talk original characters. Antagonist characters. The Romulans. 

So we’re gonna say right off the bat that the weird baldness? and lines on their face? That is an illness that the future ship of Romulans contracted from their time travel incident. Most Romulans look like Vulcans, pretty much. We....we can modify their shoulder pad armor, though....like. That we can do. 

Except for one. One single Romulan...who left the Future Romulan ship, because he found love on Romulus. Now, his wife is the Praetor (Czar, essentially) he has all this knowledge of the future and a HATRED of Starfleet...and anyone related to Spock. (cue dramatic music) I wanna say his name is....Saelum. yes, pronounced like Salem. He starts the Tal Shiar (Romulan spy group that kinda runs things and everyone’s afraid of it) His wife is Praetor Vis. 

Then there’s the captain of the Warbird Excias, Versa. The Excias patrols the Romulan side of the border, and is often paired up with the Vigilance. She’s loyal to the Empire, of course, but she does not want a war with Starfleet. Suspicious, but not violent. She at some point makes friends with an interesting Romulan woman, Umbra, who happens to be T’Shara undercover. T’Shara has to be careful to avoid her whenever Versa works with Vigilance.

Storylines include:

Various phenomena that occurs in the neutral zone that Vigilance has to investigate. 

Learning about Romulan culture.

At some point we need a straight up parody of “The Hunt for Red October” (Movie/Book about a Russian Defector) 

Some more things about the similarities/differences between Vulcans and Romulans

Possibility of reunification between Romulans and Vulcans???

Civil War breaks out on Romulus. T’Shala wants to help one side, Lorca and Saru are vehemently against it

Section 31 (Starfleet’s not-so-moral secret agency) interferes with Romulus, Vigilance tries to stop them. 

Space whales. I just like space whales. 

Spirit gets trapped without Warp power deep in Romulan space. 

Peace and love in the galaxy. I dunno i just want more bullet points. 

Lots of diplomacy and politics (*cough*andallusionstoUSrelationswithRussia*cough*)

Friendship. 

Other:

BRING BACK THE COLOR CODED UNIFORMS!! NONE OF THIS METALLIC SHIT!! GOLD, RED, BLUE, DONE. JUST. YOU CAN MAKE THEM LOOK COOL BUT. COME ON. 

[vaultsixtynine]

in the meantime, a post abt roz. specifically, roz's family history and pre-campaign situation.

roz's mother was a 'genius' raised in relative isolation by roz's grandmother, the wizened matriarch of a rich, influential family - given all the best tutors, etc., but also shut off from anything that could distract her from 'her purpose'. she largely worked on esoteric, arcane, and/or religious mysteries for the ever-popular death church. she had no semblance of a normal life and was more like a living trophy of a human, kept behind museum glass, pinned like a rare, valuable butterfly.

at some point, she made some Big theory about something religious - something that probably would not have been tolerated by the death church - but continued to search for proof to back it up before explicitly publishing. at some other nebulous point, she began a highly verboten affair with roz's father, an elf (named cyrus) who lived outside city limits. he was considered Far beneath her class, which was a bigger problem than the fact that he was an elf. he began to smuggle her out to live a real-ass life by night, which stalled her 'very important research', blah blah. he had been working at the house in a freelance fashion (maybe a gardener?) and she took a shy liking to him, which of course led to him realizing that she had like... never really... had a life? this wasn't a 'born sexy yesterday' trope and started firmly in friendship bc he was like, oh saints, she doesn't even Know what having friends is like.

having an extramarital affair was bad enough, but a relationship w someone in a lower class??? horrendous. they managed to keep it secret for a time, but roz's mother eventually began to need her dresses let out around the waist, and then it was Very Clear what was going on. roz's dad was barred from ever coming back on threat of death, and the house guards Did beat his ass a few times when he came around. he sent letters though, faithfully, regularly. roz was born and mostly protected from her grandmother's controlling smother by her mother. roz has early memories of her mother and her isolated quarters, as nice as they were. nothing was really child-friendly, but her mom improvised toys, read books and letters aloud, and started teaching her very intelligent daughter from a young age.

roz also remembers the morning she woke up to find her mother had hung herself from the rafters. her grandmother, already intolerant of this half-breed half-class child, almost immediately packed her off to boarding school after the funeral. as roz grew up and occasionally visited her grandmother's Ye Olde Fuck Off Mansion during holidays, she understood More of her mother's situation - letters from dad had been intercepted and shut off by grandmother for months, and instead grandmother was pushing her to Finish The Grand Discovery, because 'look, that fool man finally learned better, love is a waste of time and much less important than your life's work', etc.

meanwhile, dad had been attempting to make coded plans in their letters to get her tf out of there because he had realized the need to get her the hell out of there since they started seeing each other romantically but also realized that getting her out would be extremely difficult, and suddenly went silent. then grandmother was like 'why aren't you improving. is the Child (roz) a distraction, too? i can liberate you of that burden as well'. so mom was at her gd wit's end. man she loves stopped communicating and it was probably her abuser's fault, and now her child was at risk of being taken away because she couldn't make some Grand Discovery about stupid shit that she didn't care about. she just wanted her family, and no one would let her have that. she wanted nothing more than to slough her burdens off of her shoulders, and be free.

roz learned a lot of this from her mother's journal, which she found hidden under loose floorboards one winter break. it's been a jealously guarded secret since then, and has tempered childhood's blind trust in her grandmother. she also eventually learned that her mother HAD puzzled out that grand discovery shortly before her death, and something (maybe hope???) in her gut makes her feel like... maybe her mother didn't kill herself. maybe she Was Killed instead, especially if the nature of the discovery was made known to the death church (which is rife with corruption and protects its modes of power first and always)

so anyway - dad tried to fetch roz at the funeral for her mom, but was chased off and beaten again by gma's guards. since then, roz has attended prestigious boarding schools in her grandmother's effort to encourage roz to be the exact same type of genius as her mother. if she's smart, she still has a use, and grandmother is all about that risk/reward balance. roz has become very aware of this through the years and was careful to never seem Too Smart without also obviously acting dumb.

in this way roz is... scared of potential. she was taught wizarding basics in school and absolutely has the intelligence and ability to be a Real Fucking Wizard - a very powerful one, too - but she just. all of her spells are based in practicality, and only duress can really make her use them offensively. she doesn't Want to hurt people. she doesn't want to work for the church or her grandmother or toil and research to no end and be isolated all her life. she wants to do her own thing, which has since been heavily pointed in the detective persuasion, bc she is very Very good at puzzles and wants to help people and doesn't care for corruption.

she doesn't want to end up like her mother. someday, she'd like to... have Words w her grandmother. but first she has to find her dad, bc he abruptly stopped sending letters and he's been sending them regularly for her entire boarding school life. first: missing person's case feat. dad, and then... trying to figure out what to do with the rest of her life. hopefully she can help some other folks along the way